When the Lightning Strikes
by Moriarty's Minion
Summary: Part 2 of my HP/Supernatural crossover series. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters, but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Harry also gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize, and is original material, is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** As so many recent reviewers have pointed out, it's Summer! And that means the sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_ is finally up :) You all have been waiting a few months for this, so I won't waste any more time with introductions…

Check out the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter for more information.

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Prologue**

"And the chains they crash like thunder,  
While the weak ones all retreat.  
Gotta draw first blood,  
Or they'll read your funeral rights,  
When the lightning strikes."

- Aerosmith, _Lightning Strikes_

The projector's light flickered over Harry's head, small specks of dust lighting up as they flew into the path of the light. On the screen a heroic Luke Skywalker's light saber lit up.

"Popcorn?" Sam asked shoving the tub of popcorn at Harry, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Harry took a handful of the buttery food and thanked Sam for the offer. Sam nodded slightly, still completely absorbed in the age-old film.

Harry shared an amused smile with Dean. It had been the older Winchester's idea to bring Sam to the local movie theatre. Ever since John Winchester had "died" both boys had been having a rough go of it. Harry gut twisted at the knowledge that he could have saved them both such trauma.

"You okay?" Dean whispered, taking the popcorn bucket from Harry.

Harry nodded and squeezed Dean's hand. "Popcorn went down the wrong pipe or something."

"You want something to drink?"

Harry shook his head. "I just need to go cough in the bathroom."

Dean's eyebrows rose suggestively. "Want some company?"

Harry smacked Dean's hands in response before sliding out into the aisle. "I'll be right back."

The light in the theatre lobby took a moment to adjust to, but Harry quickly navigated his way to the men's room. Harry's eyes swept under the doors of each of the stalls to make sure they were empty. When he was sure he was alone he picked the center urinal to relieve himself.

He was just washing up when an elderly man with a cane entered the bathroom. Harry smiled and nodded at the man. The man did not smile back.

As soon as the door shut behind him, the man's eyes turned black. Harry tensed in response, calling a flame into existence in front of him.

"Impressive," the old man croaked. "He wasn't lying about your talents."

"He?" Harry asked, letting the flame build slightly. "Who is it that's been saying such nice things about me?"

"Azazel, of course," the demon replied, smacking his cane against the ground in his impatience. "Put the flame away, witch. If I were here to kill you I wouldn't have revealed myself this way."

"Than why are you here, demon?" Harry asked, showing his own impatience. "And why shouldn't I just strike you down where you… hobble."

"Azazel has a message for you," the demon replied, twirling the cane in the surprisingly nimble fingertips of the aging host body. "He wants you to know that he's having difficulty finding John Winchester in hell."

Harry shrugged. "And this is my problem how?"

The demons black eyed swiveled towards the door and the theatre beyond. "Because the sons of the man you murdered are just feet away."

"Azazel and I had a deal," Harry barked angrily. "No one would know what really happened."

"Azazel only has to keep his end if he believes you kept yours," the demon hissed. "And if John Winchester isn't in hell than maybe you didn't keep your end."

"The hunter died in front of Azazel's eyes," Harry retorted. "Even he can't deny that."

"But what happened after?" the demon asked. "Azazel knows of your ability to heal yourself… what of others? Can you heal others?"

Harry wasn't sure how to respond. It would come out eventually that he could heal other people, making it more suspicious if he lied. But if he told the truth now, Azazel might not hold himself to his bargain.

"There was magic bonding our deal," Harry said, deciding on misdirection. "If he breaks our agreement than John Winchester lives again _and _that magic gun of his comes back with him."

The demon grinned maliciously. "And if he can prove that _you_ broke your deal than Dean Winchester dies."

Harry swallowed thickly before extinguishing his flame.

"If you don't mind, I have a movie to get back to."

The demon nodded. "We'll keep looking for John Winchester. For your lovers sake, we better find him."

Thick, black smoke began pouring from the elderly man's mouth and escaping into the air vent above them. Harry caught the man and laid him gently on the ground, before walking back into the lobby.

Just as he was about to reenter their theatre, Dean emerged from the other side of the door.

"There you are," Dean greeted warmly. "I thought you fell in or something."

Harry shrugged. "No, just had to use the loo."

"I love it when you go British on me," Dean grinned, holding out a hand to Harry.

Harry eyed the hand suspiciously. "I thought you didn't like the PDA?"

Dean made a point of looking around the nearly empty lobby, before shrugging. "I think I'll risk it."

Harry smiled as he took Dean's hand, letting the hunter lead him back into the dark of theatre. _Sam probably didn't even notice we were gone_, Harry thought wryly.

Neither Dean nor Harry saw the black smoke leaving the theatre and disappearing into the blue sky beyond.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So this is just the prologue, but the first full chapter will be up in the next few days. I hope you liked it even if it was on the short side. At the very least it will show why Harry can't reveal everything to the Winchesters… at least not right away.

I'm going to have more information on the sequel (like the number of chapters, some plotline information and when updates will occur).

I know I haven't been the best at it before, but I am going to try my best to respond to as many reviews and answer as many questions as I possibly can. For now, just know that I am excited to be back and cannot wait to hear from you all again.

Don't forget to REVIEW!


	2. A Grave Sight

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize, and is original material, is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all of the lovely, lovely reviews! It's so nice being back and writing again. _When the Lightning Strikes_ and all of its chapters will have Aerosmith lyrics, just like _You Leave the World Behind_ and all of its chapter titles / beginning lyrics were from Foreigner songs.

Don't forget to check out the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter for TONS more information on updates, chapters, and more :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 1:  
"****A Grave Sight"**

"There's a meltdown in the sky,  
there's a new day coming,  
and I don't know why.  
There's a fear that gets me high,  
and the cold night numbs,  
as the Jet Black clouds roll on by."

- Aerosmith, _Meltdown_

THEN…

"_Azazel has a message for you," the demon replied, twirling the cane in the surprisingly nimble fingertips of the aging host body. "He wants you to know that he's having difficulty finding John Winchester in hell."_

_Harry shrugged. "And this is my problem how?"_

_The demons black eyes swiveled towards the door and the theatre beyond. "Because the sons of the man you murdered are just feet away."_

"_Azazel and I had a deal," Harry barked angrily. "No one would know what really happened."_

"_Azazel only has to keep his end if he believes you kept yours," the demon hissed. "And if John Winchester isn't in hell than maybe you didn't keep your end."_

"_The hunter died in front of Azazel's eyes," Harry retorted. "Even he can't deny that."_

"_But what happened after?" the demon asked. "Azazel knows of your ability to heal yourself… what of others? Can you heal others?"_

_Harry wasn't sure how to respond. It would come out eventually that he could heal other people, making it more suspicious if he lied. But if he told the truth now, Azazel might not hold himself to his bargain._

"_There was magic bonding our deal," Harry said, deciding on misdirection. "If he breaks our agreement than John Winchester lives again and that magic gun of his comes back with him."_

_The demon grinned maliciously. "And if he can prove that you broke your deal than Dean Winchester dies."_

* * *

"Special delivery!" Harry called out in greeting as he entered the small country home. Harry paused as he took in the destruction to the house before closing the door firmly behind him. One of the three-seat couches had been overturned, the other one was being used as a garbage bin. Two of the windows on the back wall were broken, as were all of the paintings left on the walls. Trash and debris littered the floors.

"John?" Harry yelled, dropping the garbage bags on the kitchen counter and moving briskly towards the bedroom door. "John? Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm just fantastic!" John shouted back, his reply muffled slightly by the locked door between them. "Fuck off!"

"Open the door, John," Harry ordered.

"Are you deaf, witch?" John replied angrily. "I said to _fuck off_."

"I'm coming in," Harry informed him before whispering his unlocking spell and letting the door swing open.

Harry sighed at the state of the bedroom which was equally as devastated as the living room and kitchen. John Winchester was flat on the bed with the curtains drawn across the windows.

Harry flung a hand at the curtains magically forcing them to open. Light flooded the damp bedroom, falling directly into John's eyes. The hunter cried out indignantly at the intrusion.

Harry just managed to dodge the alarm clock the hunter sent flying at his head. Apparently John was not going to take this lying down.

"Get up," Harry ordered, kicking the leg John had left hanging lazily over the side of the bed. "I brought you some supplies, as usual."

"It's Friday already?" John mumbled, his face screwed up in confusion.

"No, I won't be able to make the scheduled time this week, John," Harry said. "I have a funeral to go to."

John laughed gleefully. "One of your witch friends kick the bucket… or cauldron as it were?"

Harry's eyes narrowed at John's tactless humor. "It's _your_ funeral actually."

John went still at Harry's words. The hunter sat up on the bed and straightened his shirt in a fruitless effort to appear dignified. "Finally decided to off me then, witch?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Harry asked angrily, conjuring ice cold water out of thin air and dumping it on John's head. "I am _not_ a witch. I. Am. A. Wizard."

John jumped off the bed in an attempt to avoid more water from soaking him. As it was Harry had accented each word with an additional wave of freezing water.

"You soaked my bed!" John shouted.

"You trashed my house!" Harry returned.

As had happened after so many of their spats since Harry had moved John into the house, the hunter resorted to violence instead of words. Not that Harry ever complained, since he enjoyed getting to beat on Dean's father more than he would have admitted to anyone.

John shouted in frustration before rushing Harry and tackling him. The pair latched onto each other as their legs bumped into the side of the bed sending them flying over it, landing on the hard floor around it.

John ended up on top of Harry and used his legs to hold Harry's arms down as he beat on him. Harry eventually gave up trying to free his arms physically and resorted to magic. With a thought John was propelled backwards off of the wizard, his soaked clothes combined with his momentum sent him sliding all the way into the far wall. John winced as his back collided with the wall making a dull thud.

"It's not fair that you can do that freak-show stuff," John grumbled. "Just once I'd like to see you take me on without it. I'd wipe the floor with you."

"Funny," Harry grinned maliciously, his teeth caked with blood. "I thought I just did that to you."

John growled and tried to sit up but Harry used his magic to keep him against the wall. With John successfully detained, Harry set about righting the house. Glass shards flew through the air like small darts as they settled back into their proper picture frames, magically sealing themselves. The clock John had chucked at Harry's head reappeared on the nightstand. The bed sheets cleaned, dried, and refolded themselves. Light bulbs flickered as they began to work again. A roll of toilet paper floated into the bathroom, just as a trash bag floated out. Even John's clothes warmed as they magically dried.

Had Harry ever been allowed to watch the television at the Dursley's, he might have recognized how much he looked like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia.

With his job done, Harry released his magical bonds on John. "Now, do you want to keep fighting or do you want to see what I brought you this week?"

John said nothing as he walked past Harry - making sure to brush his shoulder roughly against him – and out of the room. Harry sighed but followed the hunter into the small kitchen area. He took one of the seats at the kitchen counter, his back to the living room.

John unpacked the grocery bags Harry had left for him. Fruits, vegetables, meats - all of the major food groups had been purchased as well as some favorites that John had requested. One food item that wasn't on the list was key lime pie.

John paused as he lifted the item out of the brown grocery bag. "What's this?"

Harry shrugged. "Dean mentioned that key lime pie was your favorite. I thought it might be a nice treat for you since I'll be gone all weekend."

"Dean told you that?" John asked, eyes narrowed. "Was that before or after you let him fuck you like a whore?"

"You don't have to get nasty, John," Harry replied, his tone growing cold. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Nice?" John asked, incredulous. "Let's get one thing straight. I didn't ask to be brought here. I don't want to be here. I want to leave. You stopping me from doing that doesn't make you nice, it makes you're my jailor."

"I'm keeping you safe from Azazel," Harry growled. "That doesn't make me the bad guy. Usually the people protecting others is the good guy."

"If they're human," John replied, dropping the pie into the trashcan. "And I can protect myself from that yellow-eyed bastard."

"It's not all about _you_, John," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Did you ever think this is to keep Dean safe? What do you think will happen if Azazel finds out that you aren't dead? You think he's going to just keep Dean's lungs filled with air and his soul above ground?"

John's eyes softened slightly at the thought of his eldest son being punished by Azazel. "I should be with them," he said softly. "They shouldn't be having my funeral. We should be on the road hunting that thing, not hiding from it."

"I'm sorry you feel cowardly for being kept locked up in here," Harry replied, his own voice lowering in volume. "I knew someone in the same situation as you once. He was locked up to keep himself – and others – safe and out of harms way. He was a brave man, like you, and it killed him to do it. But sometimes it's necessary, and when it comes to Dean's well being there is nothing I won't do."

John studied him a moment before nodding in agreement. "As long as you realize that I won't stay in here forever."

Harry nodded back. "I know that, John, and I'm already working on a way to get you out of here and back with your family. Believe me, between you being stuck here and me seeing them deal with your supposed death, I have the worst position."

John tactfully decided to ignore Harry's opinion on that and instead focused on the leather satchel that was sitting on the counter between them. "That doesn't look like food."

"That's because it's not food, John," Harry replied, opening the bag. He pulled out several thick books. The pages' edges were yellowed and dust covered the exterior. "These are some books from Bobby's library. They all have to do with spells and concealment."

John picked up one of the books, turning it to read the title on the spine. "Bobby had these?"

Harry nodded. "I found them while I was helping him clean up the place a bit."

"You stole them?"

"You're surprised?"

John harrumphed before letting the book fall onto the countertop, sending dust everywhere.

"Careful!" Harry cried, jumped up and grabbed the book, massaging it gently as he inspected it for dust. "These are important."

"Important for what?" John asked, eyeing the books with contempt. "Their magic books. Shouldn't you already know what's in them?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Harry asked impatiently, setting the book down gently. "I guess it's because you didn't know – or don't remember – what Sirius was like."

"Believe me, kid, I remember that jackass just fine."

Harry ignored the insult, instead flipping open the book to show John some chicken scratch writing on the side of one of the pages. "This is Sirius' handwriting. It's messiness is unmistakable."

"So?" John repeated.

"So Sirius was never what you'd call a Brainiac, not like Remus was," Harry explained, ignoring John's questioning glance as Harry mentioned his werewolf friend. "Don't get me wrong, Sirius Black was a Marauder. He was clever and knew how to put spells to good use. But he had no idea how to work them from scratch or any of the theory behind them… at least nothing like what he'd need to have pulled this off."

"If Black wasn't that smart than doesn't that put a whole in your whole 'memory-wiped secret keeper' theory?" John asked, trying to keep up with what Harry was saying.

"You're not listening," Harry chided him. "Sirius never cast the Fidelius Charm in my world, someone else did. He didn't learn how to do it until he got _here_, to this universe."

"I repeat," John said stubbornly. "So what?"

"So if he learned that stuff here than he probably learned how to protect your memory blocks and create your false memories in _this_ universe as well," Harry continued. "And if he learned it here than someone else must know it, too. Chances are something in Bobby's library could lead us to that information. And if we can find out how he created those memory blocks…"

"… than we can find out how to undo them," John finished for him.

Harry nodded. "And that means we'll know where Sirius is."

"And then I can go?" John asked. "Once we find your godfather, I'm set loose?"

Harry smiled and nodded again. "I promise I'll have found a way out for you by then that won't endanger yours sons or anyone else that we care about."

Harry slid the book over to John. "So be gentle with these. They're our best shot at ending this all once and for all."

"_I_ have to do the research?" John asked incredulously.

"Sam says no ones better at it than you are," Harry replied with a grin. "What else are you going to do while you're cooped up in this house?"

"Besides," Harry continued as he walked towards the front door. "I already told you I have a funeral to attend."

* * *

Harry walked into the bedroom just in time to see Dean buttoning up his white dress shirt. Since coming back from the hospital, Bobby had allowed Harry to move into Dean's room with him. While the aging hunter had claimed he was only doing it because Dean "needed a nurse maid" Harry appreciated the gesture for what it was; acceptance.

"Need any help with those clothes?" Harry asked, smiling as he sat on their bed. As much of a running joke as it was in the household that Harry was Dean's nurse, the hunter had come to rely on Harry's assistance a lot over the past few weeks.

It was only recently that he'd been able to do things on his own. As a celebration for Dean finally returning to normal status, they had ventured into the town and stumbled on a Star Wars marathon going on at the rundown theatre.

It also provided a distraction from the event everyone staying at Bobby's place had been postponing since Dean had been released from the hospital; John Winchester's funeral.

Dean stepped in front of the tall mirror to assess his appearance. "That's odd."

"What's odd?" Harry asked, scooting further back onto the bed and tucking a pillow behind his head.

"Usually you only want to help me take off my clothes."

Harry chuckled. "There's always time after… if you're feeling up to it."

Dean sent him a baleful glance in the mirror, warning Harry to keep quiet.

"You look nice in a suit," Harry said softly, watching as Dean popped his shirt collar and wrapped a long black tie around his neck. "Where'd you find one in this dinky town?"

Dean shrugged. "It's my Fed suit."

"Your what?"

"My _Fed_ suit," Dean repeated, making the loop in his tie. "For when Sam and I have to masquerade as the F.B.I. at a crime scene or to get into a morgue."

"I don't think I've seen you in that disguise yet," Harry commented. "What other ones do you have?"

Dean finished the knot before turning to face Harry. "I appreciate you trying to take my mind off of things, but I'm fine. You don't need to make small talk."

Harry slid off the bed and buttoned the front of Dean's suit. "I just want to help, Dean."

Dean sighed and took Harry's hands into his own, making sure to keep eye contact. "If you want to help someone than go find Sammy. You and he can have all the 'roommate bonding sessions' you want, but I don't need them."

"I think Sam would rather talk to his big brother about his father dying than his college roommate, Dean," Harry replied sharply. "And I thought you might want to talk to me. Apparently I was wrong."

"Apparently," Dean replied, dropping Harry's hands before walking briskly out of the bedroom. "I'll see you outside."

Harry stared at the empty space where Dean had been standing, feeling the familiar sensation of guilt building in his stomach. Harry plastered an understanding smile on his face, perfected it in the mirror, and then headed out to join the rest of the hunters.

* * *

Sam smiled at Harry as his friend followed his brother out of the house.

"What's up with those two?" Bobby asked gruffly.

Sam shrugged. "Not like Dean would tell me anyways."

"You ready for your speech?" Bobby asked, folding up his newspaper.

Sam nodded. "I guess so. Even though it should be Dean giving it. He's the oldest."

"Dean has his own responsibilities tonight," Bobby replied, putting a comforting hand on Sam's arm. "You'll do fine. Probably a better public speaker than him anyway."

Sam smiled his thanks before a knock at the door startled them both. Bobby hopped up first and peered through the screen before throwing it wide open.

"Hells Bells!" Bobby shouted warmly, accepting a hug from a pair of arms that Sam couldn't see from his seat.

"Who is it, Bobby?" Sam asked, trying to draw the person indoors.

Bobby backed out of the doorway to let the second person in. Sam was surprised to see an attractive but aging woman step through the door. Sam hadn't known that Bobby had a lady friend he'd invited to the funeral.

"Sweet Baby Jesus you look like your father," the woman said, staring at Sam as if he were a ghost.

"Funny, people usually say that about Dean," Sam replied, extending a hand out to the woman. "I'm Sam Winchester, and you are…"

"Ellen," she replied, still staring at Sam. "Ellen Harvelle, I was an… acquantence of your Daddy's a long time ago."

Sam gave her hand a firm squeeze before releasing it. "It's nice to meet you Ms. Harvelle."

"It's Mrs. Harvelle actually," she replied, eyes flashing slightly, "but friends can call me Ellen."

"Sorry about that," Sam apologized, not intending to insult the woman. "So how did you and my father know each other?"

Ellen smiled grimly. "My husband and he went hunting together occasionally."

"I didn't know Dad ever had a partner besides Dean," Sam replied, wondering at what else he would learn about his father tonight.

"Well they stopped awhile back," Ellen explained, looking uncomfortably at Bobby. "You know… differences and such."

Bobby cleared his throat. "Ellen runs the Roadhouse."

"The Roadhouse?"

"It's my bar," Ellen explained proudly. "We get a lot of hunters. It's one of the few hubs we have for staying in contact with one another. Hell, it's practically the only one in the Midwest."

"I can't believe I've never heard of it," Sam muttered. "I didn't even know there were places like that."

"Well where do you get your hunts from?" Ellen asked, curious. "And how else can you do your research?"

Sam shrugged. "Dad taught us how to use the newspaper and the internet to find hunts, and as for info… we just call Bobby."

Both Sam and Ellen turned to look at the man in question who – if Sam hadn't known any better – looked like he was blushing.

"You'll have to forgive Sam," Bobby said, excusing the younger Winchester. "He's been out of the game for a few years while he went to college."

"Stanford, right?" Ellen asked.

Sam nodded. "How'd you know?"

"My bar's the hunter information highway, remember?" Ellen reminded him with a laugh. "I heard your Daddy did some bragging about his son, the college man."

"_My_ dad?" Sam asked, incredulous. "My dad hated that I left."

Ellen touched his arm lightly. "Your Daddy was a tough man, Sam. But he was proud of you. Don't forget that."

* * *

The funeral pyre had been set up on the other side of Bobby's home, facing away from the junkyard. As sunset grew closer, more hunters began showing up and joining the makeshift congregation.

Harry wasn't sure what he was most nervous about. There was the fact that he was attending the funeral of a man he knew to actually be alive. He also had to keep up that pretense to the same man's sons, who also happened to be his lover and his best friend. Then there was the fact that his magic made him partially a supernatural being that was standing in a crowd made up of trained killers of the unnatural elements. Lastly - but most important given the incident at the movie theatre – was the knowledge that in the crowd of hunters Azazel had most likely sent a spy to witness the funeral.

Dean's life depended on the believability of John Winchester's passing, which is why he had encouraged the brothers to spread word of John's funeral through Bobby's network of hunters. Of course he had suggested it under the guise of giving John the proper respect a hunter of his renown should receive.

Sam and Dean stood at the head of the funeral pyre, facing the crowd of hunters. Sam made eye contact with Harry, but seemed to understand his reservations of being among hunters. Regardless of how much Harry wanted him to look up at him, Dean kept his eyes focused on the ground beneath his feet.

Bobby stood to the right of the Winchester brothers, next to a portable grill with orange flames. Harry decided to join him and help hand out the small, unlit torches they had made last night. While thinning the sticks, Bobby had conveyed to Harry the rituals involved in the funeral of a hunter of the supernatural. The most important of which is the burning of the corpse so that it could not return or be used to harm others.

It was also tradition for those closest to the deceased to start the fire, something Harry was positive the brothers were not looking forward to. Harry tried to give Dean a reassuring look as he passed him the first torch but Dean avoided his gaze.

"My father was a complicated man," Sam said to the crowd, his voice booming over their heads. "He taught us many things over the years. Some to do with hunting, some we still can't figure out." Harry smiled slightly as the crowd chuckled gruffly at Sam's joke.

"Through it all, our father's lessons were about one thing above all else," Sam said. "Living. And that is what he would want everyone to do. He wouldn't want any of us to mourn him beyond tonight. He would want us all to continue on, to persevere... to live. That is how we can honor him best."

Behind him, Dean tossed his torch beneath the stacks of wood. Within minutes the entire stack of wood beams and gasoline were burning. Thick clouds of smoke wafted up into the night sky.

By the time the moon had risen fully, the rest of the hunters were gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:** And there's chapter 1! Sorry if not much plot progression has occurred but I'm still tieing up some loose plot ends. Not to worry, we're starting the steady move forward! After all we did meet Ellen and introduce the Roadhouse in a manner that was definitely not in the TV show.

As usual I have put all of the chapter titles on my profile page, where you can see progress updates listed next to them. I am trying to update the chapter status on my profile every time I write part of the chapter. Some of the chapter titles (all puns… you know how I love my puns lol) have been blocked out because they could act as spoilers for later plot points in the story. You are welcome to try and figure them out as an "X" has simply replaced each letter :)

You may notice that there are 20+ chapters in this story - almost twice as many chapters as in _You Leave the World Behind_. Last time there were 13 chapters and I averaged about 7500 words a chapter, which took weeks to write. I am trying to keep the update rate at about once a week so these chapters will be around 4,000 words (thus why so many more chapters this time around).

I was accepted into the Denver Publishing Institute (yay!) which runs from early-July to mid-August, so there may be some delays during that time as I'll be busy learning the book publishing trade.

The other way to keep updated on chapter progress is to follow me on twitter. My username is "nativeboywonder".

REVIEWS are always welcome!


	3. Semper Fidelius Charm

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** I'm baaackkkkk! Hope no one got too worried about little ole me, but I was at the Denver Publishing Institute for a long time and just got back.

Before we get to the chapter I just wanted to point out that two of you are getting pretty close to solving one of the larger mysteries of the stories that I've gotten a question about. In their reviews **YukiAme** and **Kirallie** pointed out something that will be very important to plot points not just later in this story, but for the entire series as a whole. I seriously suggest checking out their reviews for Chapter 1.

Don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes  
Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 2:  
**"**Semper Fi-delius Charm"**

"Happy just to be in lust,  
Never have to eat no dust.  
Everybody talk about young lust.  
You're dying and you're screaming inside,  
Oh, you're guilty way before you've been tried."

- Aerosmith, _Young Lust_

_THEN…_

"_If Black wasn't that smart than doesn't that put a whole in your whole 'memory-wiped secret keeper' theory?" John asked, trying to keep up with what Harry was saying._

"_You're not listening," Harry chided him. "Sirius never cast the Fidelius Charm in my world, someone else did. He didn't learn how to do it until he got here, to this universe."_

"_I repeat," John said stubbornly. "So what?"_

"_So if he learned that stuff here than he probably learned how to protect your memory blocks and create your false memories in this universe as well," Harry continued. "And if he learned it here than someone else must know it, too. Chances are something in Bobby's library could lead us to that information. And if we can find out how he created those memory blocks…"_

"… _than we can find out how to undo them," John finished for him._

_Harry nodded. "And that means we'll know where Sirius is."_

"_And then I can go?" John asked. "Once we find your godfather, I'm set loose?"_

_Harry smiled and nodded again. "I promise I'll have found a way out for you by then that won't endanger your sons or anyone else that we care about."_

* * *

_NOW…_

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

These were the supposed stages of grief as Harry had always heard them.

As Dean's teeth tugged on his lower lip Harry wondered if lust had been left off the list or if Dean was just a special case of crazy. Somehow he didn't see Sam dealing with John Winchester's death in the same way.

Despite the earlier cold shoulder Dean had been giving him during the funeral, Dean had practically molested Harry as soon as they had gotten back to their room. The moment the bedroom door had closed Harry had been pushed onto the bed and roughly groped. Dean and Harry had experimented with some rough play in the bedroom before but never had Dean been so careless with Harry.

"Dean!" Harry grunted angrily when Dean's teeth broke the skin on his shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing that a little loving can't fix," Dean muttered, kissing the wound before moving further down Harry's bare chest.

Unfortunately for Dean, Harry had quickly run out of patience. First Dean had ignored him all day when Harry had simply wanted to comfort him. _Now_ Dean was after some rough loving and Harry was simply not in the mood to play submissive.

Harry swatted Dean in the temple and pushed him off the bed. Dean landed on the floor with an annoyed grunt.

"What's a matter, Harry?" Dean's caustic voice floated up from beside the bed. "Not in the mood to make me feel better any more?"

Harry rolled over so that just his head was visible over the top of the bed. "Not when you're being an arse about it."

"I love it when you go British on me." Dean flashed him a cocky grin and licked his lips suggestively. "Won't you join me down here? This floor wasn't the kind of hard wood I was expecting tonight."

"I'm not doing anything with you if you're just going to take out your anger issues on me."

"Oh, come on, do I look angry?"

Harry stared at Dean until that cocky grin of his cracked. "You don't think I know you well enough to see when you're hiding your emotions from me, Dean? You think I can't see the way your hands shake when you hold your glass of juice in the morning? How you slam doors a little harder than usual?"

Harry slowly slid off the bed and crouched over Dean, gently cradling his face with one hand. "Don't you know how well we see through one another?"

Something flickered behind Dean's eyes. "Is that why I feel you keeping something from me?"

Harry couldn't help the guilty expression that overtook his face.

"Maybe _that's_ why I'm mad all of the time."

"Don't blame me for your grief, Dean, not when I'm the one trying to help you."

"You're right. I'm sorry," Dean sighed as he looked away from those emerald eyes that knew him so well.

"Now do you really want some love and comfort or are you determined to be a jerk?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "I wouldn't kick you out of bed or anything."

Harry smiled before climbing off of him and giving Dean a hand up. Dean smiled hesitantly back before dipping his head in for a kiss. Harry continued the kiss until he felt Dean relax into it. Once he was sure Dean had lost himself, Harry put his hands on Dean's thighs.

Harry let Dean enjoy the sensation for a moment before pulling hard on Dean's knees and forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed.

"That's for biting me… bitch."

* * *

Behind his shut eyelids, Sam dreamed of flames and blood and lost love.

"Jess," Sam moaned, his already large biceps expanding as he gripped a pillow tightly against his chest. "Jess…"

_In his dream the pillow was her soft body pressed against his bare flesh. Jessica's dirty blonde hair was pooled into thick curls against his face, drowning him in the scent of her citrus perfume. Her lips pressed tenderly against his neck, her throaty whispers leaving a trail of warmth in their wake._

_That warmth grew steadily as her open mouth closed against the pulsing vein in his neck. Her tongue joined the assault and his whole neck went red with heat and blood boiling beneath the skin. Only she could make him feel such warmth that his whole body blushed. _

_Her fingers burned into his skin everywhere she touched him, leaving handprints of her travels. His eyes opened with a gasp as she mounted him. She was so beautiful that she appeared to glow as she rocked on top of him. Every thrust forward and the room brightened in her skins' seemingly magical light._

_Sam looked at the window above the bed for the moonlight that must have been causing Jessica's magnificent glow. He frowned as he realized that there was no window above the bed. As he looked around Jessica's naked form he was shocked to realize that their bedroom had no windows. There wasn't a single light on in the room – not even a lamp that could be causing her to shimmer._

"_Jess?" He asked, hesitant to bring her down off her high._

_Jess slowed her pace and opened her eyes to him. Sam fought back the urge to scream as her beautiful eyes had been filled with black pools of emptiness. "What's wrong, baby?"_

_Sam's eyes filled with tears at her gentle voice. It wasn't right that her voice should stay so innocent when her eyes had changed to such evil._

"_Oh, baby," Sam gasped, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I remember now. I'm so sorry."_

"_Remember what, Sam?" It was then that a red flame flickered beneath her skin. Jess shuddered as another flash of light ignited inside her. "Oh, Sam," she moaned. "I don't feel so good."_

"_This can't happen again," Sam muttered in distress. "Please, God, no."_

_Jess whimpered as a third flash of light illuminated within her, this time in her lower stomach._

"_You did this to her, Sammy," a voice whispered from the darkness. "She would have been safe if you hadn't picked her."_

"_No…"_

"_But now _I'm_ inside her, Sammy," the voice continued. "And we both know how this has to end."_

"_NO!"_

_The final spark ignited inside her and the flames began to burn her alive. As the light increased small flames escaped her flesh. Her mouth opened in an endless scream and flames leaped out and up to the ceiling._

_Sam tried to push himself further into the mattress in an effort to get away from the flames. Jessica's burning hands gripped his muscled arms, fusing their skin together in fire. Sam roared at the pain from the fire but Jessica only gripped him tighter._

"_Burn with me, Sam," Jessica moaned, her head snapping forward and those black, soulless eyes stared deeply into his. "Burn with me forever."_

_Sam opened his mouth to scream but Jess fused her mouth over his, flames rushing forward into his throat, his lungs, his soul._

"NO!" Sam screamed hoarsely as he woke.

Sam stared at his bed in confusion, gasping for air. His sheets were soaked in his sweat. Feathers from the pillow he'd torn apart in his sleep covered his bare chest, sticking to his fevered body.

"I'm coming, Sam," a voice whispered in the darkness. "I'm coming back."

Sam jumped off the bed and flipped the light switch, bathing the room in light. He checked the closet, under the bed, and behind every object large enough to hide behind. He was alone in the room.

It was only then that he realized the voice hadn't come from the shadows in his room.

It had come from the shadows of his mind.

And it was coming.

That's when Sam heard the gunshot.

* * *

_Five minutes earlier…_

Harry and Dean had been "making up" for almost twenty minutes before Harry felt the first wave of warning from his magic.

It started as a tingle down his spine that was easily mistaken for a result of Dean's talents in the bedroom. The second time was an urgent shiver that actually caused Harry to bodily shake.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, pausing in his concern for his partner.

"It's nothing," Harry shrugged. "Just a shiver."

"It didn't feel like a shiver."

"I didn't know you felt it, too," Harry laughed. Dean smirked in response before returning to his previous work with renewed passion.

A wave of nausea hit Harry like he'd only felt once before. Harry gasped as he detangled his body from Dean's and got off the bed. He steadied himself against the bedroom wall.

"You're right, Dean, something is definitely wrong."

Dean was out of the bed in a flash completely immune to his nakedness. "What is it?"

"Something's happening with my magic," Harry gasped. "I can't… I can't stop it."

Dean cursed in his frustration. "I can't do anything about that freaky shit."

"You sound like your Dad," Harry snapped, too shaken to remember that only hours beforehand Dean had supposedly buried his father. That Harry was meant to keep up the rouse that John Winchester was dead and not magically hidden away.

"I just can't help you with magical stuff." Dean sent Harry a wounded look. "I can't help."

The nausea increased to the feeling of chains covering his body. Harry couldn't help what was about to happen. He hadn't felt this horrible a feeling since he was first using the ability. He had mastered it to the point where it no longer affected him so dramatically.

Never before had his magic forced him into using such a skill.

Harry gave Dean an apologetic look before he was hit with a tingle in his spine, a shiver that shook his whole body, a wave of nausea and the feeling of chains wrapping around his body.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

And then his magic forced him to apparate from Dean's arms and into the unknown.

* * *

"Sam!"

Sam heard Dean's angry shout only seconds after the gunshot had echoed through Bobby's old house.

Sam pushed open his door and pounded up the stairs to Dean and Harry's room. Bobby followed right behind, closing his robe with one hand and holding a shotgun in the other.

"What the hell is with all the racket tonight?" Bobby thundered.

Sam threw open the door just in time to see Dean pulling on a pair of boxer briefs.

"We heard a gunshot," Bobby said, glaring at Dean. "What the hell is going on?"

"Harry's gone," Dean barked, throwing on a shirt. "He was there and then… then he was gone."

"Gone?"

"Poof, abracadabra, puff of smoke, into thin air." Dean's voice entered the hysterical. "Get the picture?"

"OK, Dean, we get it," Bobby said, cutting off Dean's tirade of examples. "Take a minute to suck some wind and then explain it."

Sam was surprised that Dean actually seemed to take Bobby's advice.

"He said something weird was happening with his magic and then he vanished into thin air. I couldn't help him with it," Dean said mournfully. "I just stood there."

"He apparated?" Bobby asked. Both Winchesters stared at Bobby as if he had two heads.

"If that's what disappearing from a room is?"

Bobby sighed. "You've seen him do it before, you idjiots. Didn't you ever ask him what it was?"

Dean shook his head. "I try to forget he's not completely human."

"What do you know about it, Bobby?" Sam asked. "It doesn't sound like he did it on purpose."

Bobby nodded. "I have a few books his godfather gave me. I only know what I've read on it – which isn't much, by the way – but I'm pretty sure it's not spontaneous."

"What if something took him?" Dean asked.

"It'd have to be something powerful," Sam pointed out, earning himself a glare from Dean. "What? I'm just saying it had to be something with power over Harry."

"Where are these spell books of yours?" Dean demanded, turning his glare on Bobby. "And whatever else you and Harry have been talking about."

"Watch your tone, boy," Bobby barked back. "The books are downstairs and they're only for reference, Winchester."

"Than let's go learn something."

* * *

When Harry's world stopped spinning he realized three very important things. The first was that he had landed in the backyard of the very house that he had stashed John Winchester. The second was that _somehow_ John Winchester was the cause of his troubles tonight. The last – arguably most important – thing Harry realized was that he was 100% naked.

"Potter?"

Harry turned around to find John Winchester staring at him, holding one of the magical books Harry had borrowed from Bobby's library. Harry could feel the heat on his face as he blushed profusely.

"What did you do, John?" Harry demanded, wandlessly transfiguring clothes for himself.

John chuckled. "What were _you_ doing?"

"Well Dean and I were trying this new position where he put his leg on one wall…"

"STOP!" John shouted. "Forget I asked!"

"Are you sure?" Harry's eyes shimmered with vindictive mirth. "I'm just so happy to see you taking an interest in Dean and mine's relationship. I just don't think I could spare any details."

John frowned. "Why are you here?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," Harry returned hotly. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

"Whatever it was must have set off some kind of alarm that brought you running," John said through gritted teeth. "I guess this really is a prison."

"You were supposed to be using those magic texts to find Sirius," Harry lectured. "They were _not_ tools to help you escape."

"Can you blame me?" John asked, a slight smirk playing at his lips.

"My magic is bonded with the Fidelius Charm that is protecting this place and you," Harry informed him. "You manipulating the spell is manipulating _my_ magic. You literally pulled me into this place! You scared me half to death!"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

John looked around the yard before daring to ask, "Any chance I get to keep the books?"

"You're kidding right?"

"Yeah, I figured as much."

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his already chaotic hair. "Oh God, what Dean must think happened to me…"

John's eyes flashed with concern. "Did the magic do anything to Dean?"

Harry shook his head. "No, as far as I know it was just me that got pulled anywhere."

"You're going to have a lot of explaining to do when you get back," John pointed out. "What are you going to say?"

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly. "It's bad enough that he hates my magic. We usually just ignore it. This is just throwing it in his face."

"I did teach him right from wrong."

"You taught him hate."

"I taught him what's trustworthy and what's not."

Harry looked sadly at the hunter. "After everything I've done you don't think Dean can trust me."

"Even I can admit that you don't mean him harm. But can he trust you?" John studied Harry for a long time. "If he could you wouldn't be lying to him about me."

Harry nodded at the truth in John's words. "You may be right about that. Now tell me that you've never lied to Dean to keep him safe? That you didn't omit some truths for the benefit of your boys? That you wouldn't make the same choice to risk having Sam and Dean hate you than have harm come to them?"

For the first time since he'd met John Winchester, Harry thought he saw the first glimmer of respect from him.

"You want a drink?" John asked, already heading into the small house. He left the back door open behind him.

Harry shuffled along after him, a mix of pride at gaining some ground with one Winchester and all nerves as to what to say to the Winchester he left behind.

* * *

"What do you mean _missing_?"

Bobby threw a disgruntled look at the older Winchester brother. "Like I said, they are not where I left them."

"Maybe I'm just stupid or something," Dean said angrily, "but these magic books don't actually magically get up and walk away. Right?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "What do you think happened, Bobby?"

"Honesty? I'd say our resident Wizard took them."

"Harry wouldn't steal," Dean barked angrily. "I'd watch what you say behind his back."

"Take it down a notch, Dean," Sam warned him. "Bobby and I are just trying to help. We care about Harry, too."

"I know," Dean admitted begrudgingly.

Bobby sat at his desk and began sorting through the dusty books on top of it, continuing his search for the magical texts he'd gotten from Sirius Black. "Wizards are private people, Dean."

"How do you know?"

"I knew his godfather, remember?"

The brothers nodded.

"Black was the same way. Always trying to keep his business a secret, always trying to get back to his godson."

Dean's eyes warmed. "I know the feeling."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope everyone enjoyed Chapter 2!

I'm sorry for the long wait but I just graduated from the Denver Publishing Institute and it was an AMAZING experience. I met several best-selling authors including Jennifer Weiner, Alex Kava and Lisa Gardner. I even met the team who brought the Harry Potter series to America (don't worry, I thanked them on your behalf lol). My only regret is that I didn't have any time to write and update _When the Lightning Strikes_ :(

Now that I'm back, I will hopefully have more time to write!

Some reviewers have been asking about _Permanent Vacation_ and if I'll ever update it again. The answer is: I'm not sure. I have some other story ideas I'd like to pursue (some HP/Supernatural crossovers and some not) and _Permanent Vacation_ is not high on that list. It was really just to keep everyone entertained until _When the Lightning Strikes_ started posting. Since it has, there's really no need to update it regularly.

Next chapter we can look forward to an important change in Harry and Dean's relationship. John and Harry will reach a mutual understanding. Sam's visions begin to concentrate on the Yellow-Eyed Demon putting more in jeopardy than he realizes.

It's been awhile so I'd love to hear from you in a REVIEW!


	4. The Hunter Who Came In From The Cold

**Disclaimer:**Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all of the reviews! I finally got the chance to reply to some of them and I'll attempt to keep up the responses as much as possible.

I did want to say a special thanks to **ForeverEmrys **for always leaving such wonderful reviews and guesses as to where the plot is going. Sometimes I think you know this story better than even I do lol.

Don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 3:  
**"**The Hunter Who Came In From The Cold"**

"I'm so hungry for love,  
I've been licking off all my fingers.  
Oh yeah, you got to learn to  
Take the bitter with the sweet."

- Aerosmith, _Head First_

John slid a glass of amber liquid to Harry before putting his feet up on the coffee table. Harry resisted the urge to tell the hunter to keep his feet off of the furniture. John was finally feeling comfortable here and Harry didn't want that to stop. Despite the optimistic front Harry kept up for John, not even he knew how long it would be before John would be safe to leave the confines of the cabin.

"What is it?" Harry swirled the liquid and lifted it up to the light.

John sent him a quizzical look. "Is that supposed to tell you what's in the glass?"

"It's just habit," Harry shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "My potions teacher used to make me do that."

"Potions?"

"Wow," Harry grinned, "I'm impressed. You almost managed to ask that without grimacing."

John took a gulp from his own glass. "I'm a work in progress. At least that's what my wife used to say."

"I remember Dean told me she said that," Harry commented quietly.

"He tell you a lot about her? About us?"

Harry shrugged. "She was his mum. He loved her."

John thought for a moment. "He ever talk about me?"

"Now that you're dead, you mean?"

"Or before. Whenever."

"When I first met him he said you and he were business partners," Harry explained, finally taking a sip from his own glass. "It was just his cover so you understand he never went into specifics about you. I could hear how much he admired you in his voice though."

"And now?"

Harry smiled. "You're his dad. He loves you."

John and Harry drifted into an amiable silence. Simply sipping – or in John's case downing – their drinks. While John tended to stare into his ever-emptying glass, Harry let his eyes wander. John hadn't exactly been cleaning but there was a general sense of order to his mess now.

"The place looks… nice."

For his part John didn't look one bit apologetic as he shrugged away the question. "Wasn't planning on staying, remember?"

"And now?" Harry asked watching John carefully. He didn't want to be deceived by John again. "You really going to stay and do some research or will you try to run again?"

"As much as I enjoy the idea of dragging your ass back here whenever I want, I don't think it would do either of us any good," John chuckled, a humorous glint entering his eyes. Harry was starting to see that maybe John Winchester's genetics had passed down more to Dean than just his attitude and accurate trigger finger.

"Besides," John continued, tilting his head at the kitchen table, "I already found something in those books of Bobby's."

Harry set his glass down. "What did you find? The spell?"

"Nah, we aren't that lucky," John said, shifting in his seat. "But I did find the answer to something I've been searching for for a _very_ long time."

"Which book?" Harry asked, already out of his comfortable position on the couch and flipping through Bobby's texts.

"The red one on the end."

Harry's eyes scanned the first few pages. "It's a spell book."

"So?" John asked indignantly. "I can read Latin. Hell, I had Sammy reading it when he was just in middle school. Then I had him teach Dean."

Harry chuckled. "I just meant that I was surprised you'd been wondering about witchcraft for all these years. You seemed a bit… I don't know… opposed to the idea?"

"It's not the spells that are important," John replied, his voice deadly serious. "Look at the author of the book."

Harry flipped to the back flap where two letters had been inscribed into the binding of the book. There, in large cursive writing, were the initials S.C.

"I'm assuming this isn't Santa Claus," Harry said wryly.

John nodded. "Samuel Colt."

"As in _the_ Samuel Colt?"

"Yup."

"Like the guy who made _the_ Colt?"

"More like the wizard who made it," John answered. "Always wondered what made him so special that _his_ bullets in _his_ gun would kill a demon."

"Jealous much?" Harry grinned.

"I probably killed more supernatural shit and took on more demons than some gun maker," John grumbled. "Didn't matter how many guns I made, none of them ever stopped a demon."

"Now we know why, I guess."

"Friggin' witches," John muttered, before glancing over at Harry. "Er… no offense."

"It was never the witch-jokes that upset me, John," Harry informed him. "But thanks for trying."

"Oh… than what?"

"You really want to know?"

John nodded. "Figure if we're going to start making an effort than I should figure out what to say – and what not to."

"It's Dean," Harry explained. "When you say stuff about our… relationship."

"You can't even say the word," John harrumphed. "Forgive me if I have a problem taking what you two have seriously."

Harry's emerald eyes glowered at him.

"Don't get me wrong," John continued, holding up his hands in mock-surrender. "I can see how much you care about him, and based on how much time Dean's spent with you I can recognize that he also cares for you. But that doesn't constitute a relationship."

"I love Dean. Dean loves me. Isn't that good enough?"

"For most people? Sure." John slid his legs off the table and leaned forward. "But you and Dean aren't most people. All the shit we hunters go through means we need something good and solid to come home to at night. Someone we can trust no matter what."

"And I'm not trustworthy."

John's eyebrows raised in surprise. "That didn't sound like a question."

"It wasn't," Harry agreed, noting John's surprise that Harry wasn't fighting him. "What, did you think I didn't know all that? Did you think those doubts aren't in my mind all the time?"

"I didn't think so, no."

"Well they are, John. All the time." Harry set his glass down so that his hand wouldn't shake so obviously. "Dean and I met under a lie. We bonded over sex. Sometimes that's all I think we're good at: lying to each other and having sex."

John grimaced and held up a hand to silence Harry. "That's enough of the sex talk. I get that you two are young and horny but that's still my eldest son you're talking about."

"What would you rather me call it?" Harry smirked.

"You can call it baking for all I care," John muttered. "Just don't go into any details."

"Fine, fine. So Dean and I are really good liars and… bakers, I guess."

"And you really want it to be more?"

"It _is_ more, it just doesn't always feel like it," Harry replied, downing the rest of his drink. "I try to change – _we_ try to change, but we just fuck it up."

"Look, I'm happy you feel comfortable sharing all this with me, but I'm not a shrink. I don't care to analyze my own problems that much, but it seems to me that there's a real simple way to change that."

Harry eyed John warily. "And what, pray tell, would that be?"

"Short answer?" John asked. "Just. Stop. Lying. Tell Dean the truth about me, about everything."

"I already told you what was at stake," Harry argued. "It has to appear to the world that you are dead. Dean can't act suspiciously."

"You already did the public funeral, right?"

Harry nodded.

"So than when exactly will Dean be in public to act suspiciously?" John asked, making Harry pause and think. "And you really think that Dean – of all people – is going to act emotionally anyway? I love the boy but he's more emotionally challenged than even I am."

"What if it goes wrong? I wouldn't risk Dean that way."

"Risk him letting something slip to a demon?" John asked. "Or risk telling him the truth and him not forgiving you?"

Harry's eyes stung. "Both. Neither. I don't know anymore."

"At some point you got to be smart enough to just be the person you want to be."

Harry smirked at John. "I thought you weren't a shrink?"

"I'm not," John shrugged. "I'm just a man smart enough to know his own faults but too stupid to solve them."

"What if he doesn't forgive me?" Harry asked, his heart constricting at the thought. "It wouldn't be just Dean that left me. Sam would go, too."

"I can't answer that, Harry, only you can."

Harry sighed. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"If you do decide to tell the truth, would you mind doing me a favor?" John asked quietly. "Something non-negotiable?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "What favor?"

"Don't tell Sam."

"What?" Harry asked, his mouth going dry. "You want me to tell Dean but not Sam? Why? What possible reason could you have?"

"I have my reasons," John snapped, his social walls returning with a flash. "That's all you need to know."

"You want me to lie to my best friend but not give me a reason? That shit don't fly, Winchester."

"You just said you didn't mind lying to the people you care about? What's one more Winchester to lie to?"

Harry growled. "What do you know that I don't? Why shouldn't I tell Sam?"

"I'll be in my room," John said, grabbing the bottle of alcohol and slamming the bedroom door closed.

Harry kicked the table before storming out of the house and apparating back to Bobby's. All the while one thought running through his mind.

_Fucking Winchesters._

* * *

The moment Harry walked through Bobby's front door he heard the sound of multiple guns being cocked.

"Hey, guys," Harry greeted the three hunters, each of which was aiming a gun at him. He gently stepped over the line of rock salt that lined the doorway. "Late night slumber party?"

"Is that really you?" Dean asked, his voice wavering slightly. "Prove that it's you so we can put these down."

"Any suggestions on how to do that?" Harry replied, trying to smile and lighten the situation.

"Bobby, got any of that holy water lying around?" Sam asked.

Bobby quirked an eyebrow at him. "You've met me, right? Maybe we should be testing if Sam's been possessed."

"Can we stop wasting time please?" Dean asked sternly, glaring at his fellow hunters. "Just get the damn holy water!"

"On it," Bobby grunted before stalking away to the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" Dean demanded. "You were there and then…"

"I know, I'm sorry if I scared you, Dean."

"Save the apologies, get to the talking."

Harry opened his mouth, ready to tell the Winchester brothers of his deceit. Ready to confess that their father was still alive. Ready for them to hate him or forgive them, whichever path they took.

But Harry kept hearing John's voice in the back of his mind, asking him not to tell Sam. How could he follow John's directive when the aged hunter gave him no reason to not trust his friend. His _best_ friend. Sam had been with him through everything and had never given him a reason to doubt that he wouldn't still be that loyal.

And yet, he felt the lies tumble from his lips anyway.

"I know how you feel about my magic, so I've been avoiding using it. That's not what we usually do… the magic builds up and sometimes – if the person's powerful enough – manifests itself."

Dean glanced at Sam. "You get any of that?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Theoretically it makes sense, Dean. Although we can't look it up since Bobby's magic books are missing…"

"When you're done with your cocktail you can explain that, too," Bobby added, re-entering the room and sliding a tall glass of holy water across the floor to Harry.

Harry wasted no time in downing the whole glass. These may be his friends but he knew that when threatened they were as dangerous as an enemy. "See? No demonic possession. Just little ole' me."

"Next test," Bobby said, sliding a silver spoon across the floor. "Now about those books…"

"They aren't missing," Harry corrected Sam. "I borrowed them."

"For what?"

"They belonged to my godfather. It's not a crime to get sentimental."

Dean's eyes narrowed. He and Harry had talked about Sirius. Dean knew that while Sirius was a sore subject for Harry, he'd never gotten 'sentimental' about him during any of their touchy-feely times. Sirius was something Harry searched for, a type of goal, and was treated as such.

Harry met Dean's suspicious gaze, trying to relay some non-verbal message but Dean didn't understand it.

_Why is he lying? _Dean wondered. _And why is he telling lies only I would know weren't true?_

"Look, it's been a long night," Harry said after passing all of Bobby's tests. "Do you mind if we save the rest of these questions to embarrass me later on?"

The trio of hunters conversed silently before eventually lowering their weapons. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm really sorry to have put you all through this," Harry said, accepting the hug Dean rushed to give him. He felt Dean inhale his scent and wondered if it was yet another test from Dean to make sure he was really who he said he was.

"You can make it up to us in the morning," Bobby said, already turning away to walk up the stairs. "I'll have some pancakes. And by some I mean a lot."

Sam smirked. "Eggs for me, please."

Harry turned to Dean. "And you?"

Dean faced Harry so that his back was to Sam. The intense glare he gave Harry made the wizard swallow nervously. "I'll take my apology when we get upstairs."

Sam rolled his eyes at Harry, patted his brother on the back, and walked back up to his room.

Dean gripped Harry's hand tighter than was comfortable and began to march up the stairs. As soon as they were in their own room, Dean turned the full wrath of his gaze on Harry.

Harry had seen anger directed at him before.

He'd grown up with Vernon Dursley who's permanent setting was 'absolute fury' to the point where his face looked red more than pasty white. Towards the end, Petunia and Vernon's doctor kept him on a strict schedule of high blood pressure medication. The most important part of the regiment was keeping Harry out of his Uncle's line of vision.

Twice a week Harry had sat in the Hogwarts dungeon and attempted to learn from the infamous Severus Snape, Potions Master Extraordinaire. Harry used to count how many times Snape would grind his teeth at the mere sight of his raised hand.

Draco Malfoy had practically glowed with his hatred of Harry. After losing a match to Gryffindor in their sixth year, Harry had heard a rumor that Malfoy had broken his wrist by punching a wall. He'd never found out if it was true or not, but he did notice that Malfoy kept the sleeves of his robes down for a whole week despite the warm temperature.

And, of course, there was Voldemort who had tried to kill him at least once a year since he was 11 years old. And that was before Harry had gotten active in the war and starting giving the evil wizard a real reason to hate him. By the time Harry had reached Voldemort in the final battle he and the Order of the Phoenix had fought and killed their way through the Death Eater army. Voldemort knew he was losing and at Harry's arrival he was so infuriated that he could only speak in Parseltongue. Before that moment Harry had never known that snakes could swear so foully.

But none of that could have possibly prepared him for the look that Dean Winchester was giving him now.

"What the fuck was that?" Dean growled, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"Shhh," Harry snapped. "Keep your voice down."

"Not until you tell me what _really_ happened!" Dean demanded. "'Cause you and I both know what you just said out there was a load of dung."

"Yes, you're right about that," Harry admitted. Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "What? You didn't think I would tell you the truth once we were alone?"

Dean shook his head. "Honestly? Not that fast. And I didn't expect you to be lying so well out there."

"You think that was good lying, Dean?" Harry actually chuckled a little. "If I were lying to you, you wouldn't know it, Dean. That little performance was meant for Sam and Bobby, not for you."

"I feel like I did when I watched the end of The Sixth Sense." Dean sat on the bed and stared wonderingly up at Harry. "Since when do you lie to Sam? I seem to remember you breaking up with me because I asked you to do that."

"We broke up because _you_ wouldn't tell Sam the truth, and I didn't want to lie to him."

"Same difference!"

"No, Dean, it's not."

Harry and Dean stared at each other, completely annoyed. Dean's eyes wrinkled as he smirked and Harry knew he'd staved off the hunter's anger for the time being. Merlin only knew how bad it was going to get when he found out the truth.

"So why are you doing it now?" Dean asked, looking like someone shot his puppy.

"Don't give me that puppy dog look." Harry smacked Dean lightly on the back of the head. "I lived with Sam for three years, you think I haven't fought that look before? That look is my bitch."

"Yeah, but it's so much sexier when I do it," Dean said, tapping Harry's leg with his boot. "At least, it better be."

"I don't know, Dean," Harry smirked wickedly, straddling his waist. "Have you ever seen that big lug you call a brother giving someone that look right after he's stepped out of the shower. Knowing that you'll do whatever he wants?"

"No." Dean flipped them over and pinned Harry's hand over his head. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll never see that either."

Harry giggled at the jealous gleam in Dean's eyes. "Come here."

Dean leaned down, his eyes focused entirely on Harry's red lips. Harry waited until Dean's mouth was almost on his before turning his head slightly to the side. He arched his neck up until his mouth was right next to Dean's ear.

"Don't react," Harry whispered, feeling Dean go completely still in his arms. "We can't talk freely here. We'll leave early in the morning."

Dean pulled back and stared searchingly into Harry's eyes. Harry guessed that he must have found what he was looking for because Dean nodded his agreement.

Dean leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear. "Can we at least keep ourselves entertained while we wait for Sammy and Bobby to fall asleep?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He should have known that even in the middle of some intrigue Dean would want to get laid. Dean apparently read the exasperated look in Harry's eyes.

"Hey," Dean whispered defensively. "Why just sit here quietly while we wait when we could be… keeping up our cover?"

Harry looked up at Dean, suddenly feeling anxious and nostalgic. If he told Dean the truth tonight, this could be his last relaxed moment with Dean. Why should he waste it?

"Let's make the most of it, yeah?" Harry grinned. "No need to blow our cover or anything."

"Not when we can blow something much more fun…"

* * *

Sam heard Harry's laughter and then the notable silence of one of the wizard's silencing wards being put up.

He sighed.

Sam was happy that Harry was back, he really was. He and Harry had been best friends, attached at the hip, and all that jazz since freshman year. So, _of course_, he was happy that his closest friend was safe.

And yet, somehow he ached worse than before.

Seeing how Dean had been with Harry had just reminded him of how he used to be with Jess. Dean may have been downplaying how scared he'd been when Harry had apparated away but Sam had seen how he couldn't help but touch Harry when he reappeared. It was like Dean had to make sure that Harry was really there with them.

Sam was sure he would have acted the same way if Jess had come back. Dean had lost Harry when the shifter had faked his death… but at least Harry had been returned to Dean. Jess was never coming back.

Sam rubbed his eyes, felt moisture coating his palms, and tried to remember Jess. _His_ Jess. He wanted the image of her burning flesh on his erased from his memory. That dream was nothing like _his_ Jess. Most of the details from his dream had been correct – her scent, her voice, their favorite position in bed – but still there was something off even before her eyes had turned to demonic black.

Sam looked at the picture frame on his bedside table. Inside the oak frame he was standing behind Jess, his arms holding her protectively. The side of his face was buried in her hair and she was laughing at something he'd whispered to her. He tried to remember everything about that day. He remembered Harry taking pictures of them for a photography class, how Jess had suggested going to the zoo. The rest of the memory blurred and spun out of control…

Then it was gone.

Sam stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed, depressed that everyday he seemed to lose more and more of Jess. He turned to the bedside table and reached up to turn off the lamp. His fingers hesitated as they neared the switch and his body shivered in fear.

The darkness. For the first time since he was five years old, Sam Winchester was afraid of the dark.

And this time not even the gun his Dad gave him as a kid would save him from the monsters hiding in the darkness.

No, this time, Sam needed help from someone who knew about visions and psychic abilities. Someone he could trust.

* * *

"That was voracious," Dean commented, slipping his white undershirt over his head. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Better not be."

Dean grinned. "Want to get some grub?"

"Seriously? You really say grub?" Harry sniped, pulling his shoes on.

Dean scoffed, pulling on his jeans. "Hey, here in America, we don't feel the need to give everything some fancy name. We just call stuff what it is."

"Excuse me? What do you mean a 'fancy name'?"

"You know, calling an elevator a lift. Why not just call it an elevator?"

Harry threw Dean's plaid button up at his head, enjoying how it wrapped around his head. "Come on, then. Let's go see what's open this early in the morning."

"Quietly, though, right?" Dean caught Harry's eye to make sure his double meaning was getting through. "We wouldn't want to wake the others."

"Right," Harry nodded back meaningfully. "Just us… this time."

Harry used wandless magic to stop the bedroom door from squeaking. John – who had grown up spending his summers at Bobby's house – led them through the house, knowing which floorboards to avoid to move with absolute stealth.

Within minutes they were down the main stairs and out the front door, into the bright morning sunlight. Dean turned towards the Impala, pulling his keys out, before Harry grabbed his shoulder.

"We won't need the Impala," Harry said, taking Dean's hand into his own.

"We going to skip all the way there?" Dean smirked, nodding to their locked hands.

Harry thought a moment before giving Dean a hug and holding on tightly.

"What's with the hug?"

"You might struggle," Harry said matter-of-factly.

Dean stilled in his arms. "You're not going to do what I think you're going to do… right?"

Harry smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry, babe."

Dean's eyes went wide. "Don't you dare do that disappearing thing on me! Don't you dare!"

"No choice, Dean," Harry muttered, holding on tighter went Dean started to step out of his embrace. "Blast off in 3…"

"This is so _not_ funny!"

"…2…"

"Are you listening to me, Harry Houdini?"

"…1…"

"Ah, shit."

With the sound of a car backfiring, the two disappeared from sight. The echoes of Dean's girlish scream all that they left behind.

* * *

Knowing Dean's lack of experience with magical travel, Harry released him as soon as their feet touched solid earth.

Dean immediately fell to the ground and began to kiss it. Harry decided to step in when it looked like Dean was attempting to hug the ground as well.

"Uh, Dean? Dean?"

Dean gazed up at him – still dazed – and gave him a cross look. "Don't you touch me, Harry Potter!"

Harry held up both hands in mock surrender. "It was the fastest way to get you here."

"You couldn't have warned me?"

"What do you think the countdown was for?" Harry chuckled. "I'm not a Muggle rocket, Dean. I don't really need a countdown to actually jump from one place to another."

"All systems were _so_ not ready to go!"

"You'll be fine," Harry said, bending down to join Dean on the ground. "Have a look around while you get settled."

Dean squinted at Harry before turning to gaze at the forested area around them. Large trees reached up to the sky, evenly mowed grass made up the large field in the center of the trees, and a dirt road on the other side of the field disappeared into the distance.

Something tickled the back of Dean's mind. "This looks so familiar…"

Harry nodded. "This is where you used to visit me during vacations at college, remember?"

Dean shook his head and scowled. "Nah, that place had a nice cottage with a pool outback. And the nature looked… different"

"This is the same place," Harry corrected him. "There's just a spell keeping your mind from recognizing it."

"And the house?"

"It's there, it's just… hidden."

Dean looked quizzically at Harry. "Why are we here, Harry? Why show this to me? Why can't Sam or Bobby know, too? You've got me walking around our own bedroom like it's been bugged or something!"

"Here," Harry said, taking a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and offering it to Dean. "Read this and you'll find out. I just hope you can forgive me."

Dean took the paper, noting how Harry's hand shook nervously.

"John Winchester lives at…" Dean read aloud, trailing off as he finished the rest of the sentence. His eyes jumped up to meet Harry's only to widen as a small cottage came into existence beyond them. Trees and forest paths he and Harry had walked years before suddenly popped back into his mind as if remembering them for the first time.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean whispered.

Before Harry could answer the front door of the cottage opened and someone Dean had never expected to see again walked through it.

Dean felt his mouth go dry.

"Dad?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** It's the return of the cliffhangers!

Oh. My. God. John and Harry would just not stop talking! Sometimes the characters just do what they want (that makes me sound a little crazy, doesn't it?) and I just have to write it down. LOL.

Some of you may have noticed but I did a little tinkering with my outline for this story. If you check out my profile page you'll see some of the chapter titles have been switched or replaced entirely. I think the changes will be for the best and will also get the story moving faster. I even changed my profile picture and, in my humble opinion, think it's an upgrade :)

I hope everyone enjoys my Samuel Colt plot twist. As you should know by now, I really like to turn the Supernatural world on its head and spin it. This is where I really get to start playing. Some of the history of Samuel Colt will be real but I'll be playing with a lot of it. I'll try to let people know in the Author's Notes what's real and what's fiction. It was tons of fun to research and I can't wait to start showing off some of my new knowledge LOL. Also I don't think Samuel Colt himself has ever been used in Supernatural fanfiction so I'm excited for that, too.

Next chapter has father and son reuniting and… well, that pretty much takes up the whole chapter. I don't think many people will mind though :)

Until next time… REVIEWS are always a nice way to keep in touch!


	5. Blinded By The Sight

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** It's been awhile, yeah? There's an explanation at the end that I hope everyone will read. So don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 4:  
**"**Blinded by the Sight"**

"I was an old hound dog  
that loved to chase his tail,  
until I met a blind man  
who taught me how to see.  
A blind man,  
Who could change night into day.  
And if I can,  
I'm gonna make you come with me.  
Because here comes the sun,  
And we'll be chasing all the clouds away."

- Aerosmith, _Blind Man_

_THEN…_

_Dean looked quizzically at Harry. "Why are we here, Harry? Why show this to me? Why can't Sam or Bobby know, too? You've got me walking around our own bedroom like it's been bugged or something!"_

"_Here," Harry said, taking a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and offering it to Dean. "Read this and you'll find out. I just hope you can forgive me."_

_Dean took the paper, noting how Harry's hand shook nervously._

"_John Winchester lives at…" Dean read aloud, trailing off as he finished the rest of the sentence. His eyes jumped up to meet Harry's only to widen as a small cottage came into existence beyond them. Trees and forest paths he and Harry had walked years before suddenly popped back into his mind as if remembering them for the first time._

"_What the hell is going on?" Dean whispered._

_Before Harry could answer the front door of the cottage opened and someone Dean had never expected to see again walked through it._

_Dean felt his mouth go dry._

"_Dad?"_

* * *

_NOW…_

Dean stared at the figure some more. He knew he should be reacting in some way other than gaping like a fish out of water. Dean's instincts as a hunter wanted to reach for a weapon of some kind. After all, his father was dead. Whatever this thing was, it was _not_ his father.

Right?

Dean looked desperately at Harry. "Are you… can you see him, too?"

"Of course, Dean," Harry replied, putting a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "Your father's really here."

"So this," Dean said, waving his arms wildly around them, "is… real?"

John stepped off the porch and started walking towards them. "Hey, Dean."

Dean scrambled backwards, ripping himself from the comfort of Harry's warm hand. Harry motioned for John to stop coming towards them. John nodded in understanding, letting Harry take the lead… for now.

"It's okay, Dean, he's really here. He's really alive."

Dean shook his head rapidly, trying desperately to stop the world around him from spinning. "He was dead. He _is_ dead."

"No, Dean, he was never dead."

"Did you do this?" Dean demanded hoarsely. "With your magic, I mean. Did you bring him back?"

Harry sighed. "There's no magic in the universe that can bring the dead back to life, Dean."

"So how…"

"I used magic to fake his death, Dean," Harry whispered hesitantly, the confession tumbling from his lips. "Please just come inside so we can explain."

Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Why did you do this? How could you do this to me?"

Harry turned his face away in shame.

Thankfully, John decided to step in. "Come inside, son. We'll tell you everything."

"Yes, you will," Dean shot back, falling comfortably into his anger. His justifiable fury allowed him to right this tilted world Harry had brought him to.

Dean brushed past Harry's attempts to help him stand. Instead he jumped up and marched into the newly revealed structure, leading the other two.

Harry swallowed thickly as he followed the two hunters into the cabin.

* * *

Listening to Harry and his father explain their actions reminded Dean of what it felt like to be told a bedtime story. Dean didn't doubt the truth of what they were saying, it was just difficult to digest in one go. Several times John had suggested they take a break or wait another day to finish the story so that Dean would have time to properly digest it. Dean would have none of that – he wanted to know everything there and then. He was tired of being left in the dark about his own family.

"Let me get this straight," Dean said when Harry finished explaining how John had come to be hidden away with magic. "An angel came to you and told you not to kill Dad. Then that rat-bastard Azazel skewers me with a pole and forces you to make a deal to save my life. But the price is Dad's life?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Which – at the time – I was more than willing to give."

"Devious little shit," John snorted. Dean eyed his father oddly at the almost endearing tone he used to insult Harry.

"But then you figured out that your godfather had put fake memories in my Dad's head," Dean continued, rubbing his temples at the headache he was getting. "So then you couldn't kill him?"

Harry nodded a second time. "It's a spell called…"

" – I don't need to know the name, thanks," Dean cut Harry off grumpily. "The magic mumbo-jumbo just gives me a headache. So you use the same spell to hide Dad?"

"The same spell, I just didn't have to change any of his memories since I was the secret keeper," Harry corrected him. "That was Sirius' safeguard against someone forcing John into either talking or showing the real memories."

"I've been assured the spells didn't fuck anything up in my head," John interjected. "Though I'm sure I wasn't consulted on the matter… at least not that I remember."

"Nothing that wasn't already fucked up, you mean."

"How can you two just joke about this?" Dean demanded feeling his temper heating up. "Dad, you had your mind erased by a wizard and then kidnapped by another one."

Harry flushed slightly at the description of Sirius and his actions. Though he wasn't going to contradict the terminology at the current moment.

"Relax, Dean," John ordered his eldest son. "I've had my issues with what's been done, but Harry's been helping me to undo the memories."

"How?" This time Dean aimed his eyes over Harry's shoulders, still not looking him directly in the eyes.

_At least no one's tried to shoot me… yet, _Harry thought to himself. He sighed before answering. "There's a form of mind-magic called Legilimency that allows one to enter another's mind. Your father and I are planning on using this technique to examine the false memories and see if there are any clues as to how to reverse them and find the real ones."

"So you're going on a fishing expedition in my Dad's mind!"

"We're being careful, Dean," Harry defended. "Remember those books that Bobby is missing? We think Sirius used them to create his spell. We're using those as guidelines. He'll have put some kind of safeguard in place that would allow the real memories to return."

"Why would he do that?" Dean asked. "Isn't the point to just hide himself away forver?"

Harry shook his head fiercely. He couldn't accept the idea that there was zero chance of ever seeing Sirius again. "No, anyone protected by this magic is kept safe through the silence of their Secret Keeper. Should that person be killed the magic would move to someone else who knew of their location."

"But no one but Dad knows…"

"Exactly," Harry replied. "Sirius knew that if John were killed – and let's face it, those percentages were pretty high – than he'd be lost inside his own spell forever. He's smarter than that. He'll have found a way to keep those memories protected from anyone he didn't want finding him."

"Sounds like a long shot," Dean commented grimly.

"It's all I've got left of him, Dean," Harry whispered, his desperation shining through. "All that's left of my old world. I have to try."

"Furthermore, I want to find the truth myself," John added, finally joining the discussion about Sirius. "As much as I remember hating Black, I also remember the days when we were friends. I need to know if I killed my friend and if his betrayal was real or not."

"I'm surprised you don't want to shoot the bastard," Dean said, surprised that his father's vengeful nature wasn't in control of him.

"Who says I don't?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes, well… we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Until then your father and I have come to an alliance of sorts."

"And that's all of it?" Dean asked, finally turning to look the wizard in the eye. "I don't want anymore lies."

Harry nodded. "Although I do have a question for John."

John glared back at the Wizard. "What?"

"Why did you tell me to just bring Dean?" The wizard asked, giving Dean a significant glance. "Why not bring Sam?"

"That's why you only brought me?" Dean wondered aloud, connecting the dots in his mind.

John swore. "Don't you think dealing with Dean's reaction and pestering interruptions was enough without adding Sam's legal mind?"

Both Dean and Harry shook their heads at the man. "What's the truth, Dad? Why didn't you let Harry bring Sam?"

John crossed his arms and gave them a stubborn look. "That's family business."

Dean sighed. "Harry could you leave me with my father?"

"Seriously?" Harry asked, outraged. "Sam's like a brother to me, John's living in my house, and you and I are – we're… aren't we?"

"Please, Harry?" Dean asked politely but with a firm edge to his tone. "I'd like to speak to my father alone for a bit."

Harry nodded despite wanting nothing more than to glue himself to the couch. The sharp sting of rejection erupted in his chest as he stood and left the living room. He took his time closing the front door behind him. Before he did, Harry gave Dean a longing look as if he'd never see the hunter again.

Perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps Dean would never forgive him.

"You shouldn't be so hard on him," John rebuked Dean, shocking his eldest son.

Dean stared at his father with wide, unbelieving eyes. If there was one thing Dean thought he'd never see – besides John Winchester alive again – was the man defending Harry James Potter.

"You're defending him?" Dean asked, flabbergasted. "You, of all people."

John shrugged indifferently. "He's not so bad. A huge pain in this ass… but he could be worse. You should have met Black."

Dean scoffed.

"That boy saved my life, Dean," John continued in a serious tone. "He protected you and your brother when I couldn't. I can't forget that easily… No matter how inhuman he is."

"Don't talk about Harry like that," Dean snapped.

John narrowed his eyes. "Don't give him compliments? Or should I not be insulting him?"

Dean turned his head away. "Both. Neither. I don't know."

"I told him you'd still care about him," John smirked triumphantly. "He was too chicken shit to tell you."

"He should be."

"I'm disappointed in you, boy," John replied.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked in disbelief. "_You're_ disappointed in _me_? We've been reconnected for all of an hour and you've already broken the moment."

"Even if he is a Wizard, he still someone who loves you," John continued as if Dean had never interrupted. "If losing your mother and I has taught you anything, it should be to hold on to the people you love and who love you back."

Dean grimaced at his father's words.

_Of course_ he still loved Harry. There was no doubt in his mind that Harry had done what he thought best, that his intentions were pure. What Dean doubted was his ability to forgive him for the lie, though. Shouldn't he be mad? Shouldn't he feel the betrayal? He was entitled to be mortified that someone he loved put him through the loss of a loved one… wasn't he?

Dean jumped slightly as his father moved to sit next to him on the couch. Dean had to resist the urge to shift awkwardly after his father put his large hand on his shoulder.

_Why was his father being so… fatherly?_ Dean wondered. There were many traits that John Winchester possessed but gentleness was not one of them.

It wasn't until he felt the wetness on his wrist that Dean realized he'd started to cry. Small droplets of clear water fell in unrecognizable patterns on the palms that were holding his head. Small streams of the liquid ran down his cheeks to his distinctive cheekbones.

The hand on his shoulder gripped tighter as Dean's body began to shake as his tears developed into sobs. Soon his throat tightened as he tried to choke back the guttural noises of his internal pain. The moment he let one escape, Dean was pulled sideways into John's shoulder. Strong arms closed around him and Dean returned the embrace just as fiercely.

For the first time since Mary Winchester died, John held his child as he cried.

John would be lying if he claimed he had not also shed tears.

* * *

After finishing up their talk, John walked Dean to the front door.

"Don't forget to take it easy on him, Dean," John reminded his son. "What would you have done in his situation?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted before nodding for his father to open the door.

Harry was waiting on the other side. Dean could tell the wizard had been anxiously waiting for them by the large indents in his lips where his teeth had been biting them. Dean didn't know if he felt a vengeful satisfaction for making Harry wait or guilty for causing him so much stress.

If Dean was being honest with himself, it was most likely a healthy mix of both.

"See you Friday," John said shortly to Harry before closing the door on the pair of them.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked, his voice nervous and shaky. Dean's non-committal shrug did nothing to ease his nerves. "So what should we do now?"

"Take us home, Harry," Dean instructed simply, finally feeling the drain from the day's tiring events.

Harry bit his lower lip nervously. "Wouldn't you rather we talked here, Dean? You know… before we have company."

Dean shook his head slightly, his entire body looked exhausted. "Please, Harry, just take us back to Bobby's."

Harry nodded, not wanting to exacerbate the issue. "Of course."

Harry took it as a good sign when Dean didn't flinch at his touch. In fact, as Harry stepped closer to Dean, the hunter seemed to melt into the younger man's embrace. Hope fluttered faintly in Harry's heart as he clung to Dean.

"Whenever you're ready," Dean muttered into Harry's windblown hair. Harry nodded against Dean's chest, hesitant to make any action that would separate them any sooner than he had to.

A whispered spell later and the two were magically flung back to Bobby's front porch.

Dean promptly stepped away from Harry's body, dumping cold water on Harry's hesitant hopes. Harry sighed in disappointment and turned to open Bobby's front door. Dean's hand covered Harry's on the doorknob and gently tugged it away from the silver handle.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Harry asked, raising his eyes to look curiously into Dean's. The hunter didn't respond verbally, instead electing to keep hold of Harry's right hand and lead him away from the house. "Where are we going, Dean?"

Dean tutted at Harry's impatience but remained silent until they reached the impala. "Get in," Dean instructed lightly.

Harry frowned at Dean but complied, crawling into the back of the car. He scooted across the backseat when he realized that Dean intended to follow him into the backseat.

"You didn't want to talk in front of everyone," Dean answered Harry's earlier questions after closing the door behind them. "This is where I feel safe."

Harry caught Dean's slip in word choice. Dean didn't mean they were somewhere safe from being overheard. Dean clearly needed to be somewhere familiar, somewhere that didn't make him feel like the rug was being pulled out from beneath him.

When it was clear that Dean wasn't going to start talking, Harry decided that it was enough of a cue for him to start. He was just happy that Dean was giving him a chance to explain himself before dumping him somewhere and saying goodbye forever.

"You have to believe me when I tell you how sorry I am about this whole situation," Harry started, stumbling slightly in his words. "I'd never hurt you intentionally."

"Do I?" Dean asked, neither angry nor complacent. "Do I have to believe you?"

"I guess I deserve that," Harry muttered. "But you know how I feel about you… right?"

Dean nodded. "Oh, I believe you love me, Harry. I just don't believe you when you say you're sorry."

"I am!" Harry cried out. "Dean you don't know how much I agonized over this."

"You're sorry for hurting me," Dean said softly, looking out the window next to him rather than at Harry. "You're sorry for lying. I believe those things."

"You do?"

Dean smiled grimly and nodded. "Yes. I just don't believe you're sorry you chose to do them."

Harry shook his head. "But you just said…"

"I know what I said," Dean snapped, breaking his calm demeanor for the first time. He quickly schooled his features and took a few calming breaths before continuing. "But I don't think you'd choose a different path if given the chance. You're genuinely upset for the consequences of faking Dad's death, but I don't think you'd choose to let him die."

Harry paused. What Dean said was true enough. Given the chance, Harry would be lying if he claimed that he wouldn't do everything he could to save John. Without John, Dean would still be in mourning and in pain. Without John, Sam would never get the chance to rebuild a relationship with his father.

Without John, Harry would never be able to find Sirius.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Dean asked after studying Harry's face. He'd seen Harry's thought process in every twitch of his jaw and tightening of his eyes. "Aren't I?"

"Yes," Harry admitted hoarsely. "Given the chance… I would fake his death again."

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. "God help me, I'd let you."

Harry's neck cracked several times as he snapped his head up to look at Dean. "What?"

"I said I'd probably do the same," Dean admitted with a sheepish smile. "I don't know if that's good or bad, though."

"Me neither."

The pair shared a smile, though Dean's looked more strained than Harry's.

"Does that mean you forgive me?" Harry asked, daring to hope for Dean's blessing.

Harry was not surprised when Dean shook his head. "Eventually, but not… not now."

"I understand," Harry whispered weakly. "It's better than I'd hoped for."

One side of Dean's lips twisted slightly in his characteristically devilish smirk. "It's better than I thought I'd give before I spoke with Dad."

Harry grinned slightly. "John probably wanted to put a bullet in me."

Dean frowned in confusion. "No, actually, he's the one who reminded me of how good we are together."

Now it was Harry's turn to look confused. "John said that?"

"I was as surprised as you are."

"Doubtful," Harry replied. "I guess I did make some progress with him."

Dean merely nodded before letting them fall into a peaceful silence. Each man was wrapped up in the memory of the day's events. Harry was shocked that the day hadn't ended in bloodshed or worse. Dean was grateful to have his father back in his life again. Neither had expected such a conclusion to their week let alone their day.

Dean, who had let his head fall back to rest comfortably against the leather backing of the seats, rolled his head to look at Harry. "There's another reason I wanted to talk to you here."

Harry glanced at Dean hesitantly. "What's that?"

"Do you remember that night at Bobby's after we brought you back from the hospital?" Dean asked in response. "When you told me you wanted to start dating?"

Harry's wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What? Dean, what are you talking about?"

Dean's made sure to keep his voice soft. He didn't want Harry to get angry. "You told me you wanted more than just sex. You said you wanted to date out in the open."

"I remember," Harry replied, finally recalling the memory. He still wasn't sure where Dean was headed with this line of thought. "You came to my room that night and made it official – made _us_ official."

"Do you remember what I told you?"

Harry shook his head. They'd spoken of dozens of things that night, each more personal than the last.

"I told you that I wanted to love you," Dean explained softly. "I told you that I'd be the one to mess up our relationship. And that when I did, you'd have to promise not to hate me. That you'd still be my friend. That you'd still be Sammy's best friend."

"Dean," Harry muttered anxiously. "I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I'm saying that I was wrong," Dean muttered miserably. "I thought it would be me who ruined us. I thought that I would be the one to do something unforgiveable. But I was wrong. It was you."

"Dean," Harry moaned, caught off guard by the accusation. "I thought you said we were going to be alright? Why would you say something like that?"

"Because," Dean replied, taking Harry's hand firmly into his own. "I love you. But you broke us."

Anger flashed in Harry's eyes. He was not going to just sit there and take all of the blame. Luckily, Dean didn't plan on dumping the problem solely on the wizard's shoulders.

"Don't get me wrong," Dean continued quickly, kissing Harry's palm in comfort. "I broke us, too. I picked at our relationship until there were holes in it. You just found the one lie too many… even for us."

Harry tried to take his hand back, but Dean kept it firmly in his grasp.

"I'm trying to say that it's my job to fix us now," Dean explained, placing a wetter kiss on Harry's palm this time. "That I want to try and fix us."

"How?" Harry asked, still stinging from Dean's comment. "All we do is hurt each other."

"That's not all we do."

If Harry hadn't been looking Dean in the eye, he would have sworn that Dean had said that in a suggestive manner. But as Harry stared at his partner, he began to see a tenderness radiating from Dean that he'd rarely seen before. Dean was being genuine.

Dean scooted closer to Harry and leaned towards his face. "Thank you for saving my Dad."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for Dean's firm kiss. Instead Dean placed soft lips on each of Harry's eyelids and a third right on his lightning scar. Harry opened his eyes in surprise before shutting them again as those gentle lips brushed against his own.

Dean pressed against Harry further, keeping the kisses slow and intimate. He needed to let Harry know that he was loved in return. Dean had to prove that despite his hurtful words of before that he wanted their future to be one based on love.

"I love you," Harry whispered brokenly.

Dean smiled and opened the car door. Harry opened his eyes in surprise. Dean's hand was stretched out towards him, palm up. Harry took the offered hand and allowed himself to be helped out of the classic car.

Dean kissed him again. "Let's go home."

It was only after Dean had entered Bobby's home that he realized John hadn't admitted to why Sammy was left out of the day's events.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I posted my first chapter of _You Leave the World Behind_ exactly one year ago today. Despite having a _very_ detailed outline of all the stories in this series, I still never thought I'd have finished the first book and already be working on the sequel. Besides the indecent amount of pride I have for that feat, I am also filled with gratitude for everyone who has read, reviewed, and stuck with this story. Heck, I'm even grateful for the two negative reviews I've gotten. So… **THANK YOU EVERYONE** **:)**

I struggled with this chapter. I'm sure it was clear by how long the wait was for this update and for that I apologize profusely. The truth is that in my original outline Harry was going to wait a VERY LONG time before being forced to tell the truth about John to anyone, especially Dean. But I hated Harry for doing that. It was good angst but in terms of character development it was three steps backwards. So I decided that Harry was really going to change and try to be a better partner to Dean.

Unfortunately I didn't have these same thoughts about Dean, which is why I believe I couldn't get this chapter to come out. I must have written and rewritten this chapter a dozen times. I couldn't write an angry Dean because I never gave _him_ the chance to grow as a person either. I never supposed that Dean could see the good in Harry's actions or that he might forgive him. I'm not saying that Dean and Harry are done talking about this (not by a long shot) but I am saying that I'm giving Dean the benefit of a doubt.

So anyone who wants to review and say that they don't buy Dean in a "forgiving role" is free to state their opinion. I just wanted to explain why I didn't write him that way. Hope this chapter didn't disappoint anyone because in the year I've been writing this, this chapter was BY FAR the most difficult challenge I've had as a writer.

**Happy One-Year Anniversary!**

PLEASE** REVIEW!**


	6. Myth Conceptions, Part 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY! What kind of Halloween would it be without an update on a supernatural story, right? Exactly!

LOL. Thanks for all of the reviews. A year later and you guys still dominate!

Also **WARNINGS FOR A SEX SCENE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER**. You don't need to read it if you don't want to. Just stop reading when Harry and Dean go back to the motel.

As always, don't forget to read the Author's Note at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 5:  
**"**Myth Conceptions – Part 1"**

"I'm going away,  
Well, I've been away forever.  
Suicide's been crossing my mind,  
But I'll never get so far behind.  
I said the ways of the night are evil,  
Without that Lord of day,  
But I'll never get so far away.  
Hiding from the wind and the rain,  
But you could write me a letter,  
For to save me from going insane."

- Aerosmith, _Write Me A Letter_

_THEN…_

_Dean scooted closer to Harry and leaned towards his face. "Thank you for saving my Dad."_

_Harry nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for Dean's firm kiss. Instead Dean placed soft lips on each of Harry's eyelids and a third right on his lightning scar. Harry opened his eyes in surprise before shutting them again as those gentle lips brushed against his own._

_Dean pressed against Harry further, keeping the kisses slow and intimate. He needed to let Harry know that he was loved in return. Dean had to prove that despite his hurtful words of before that he wanted their future to be one based on love._

"_I love you," Harry whispered brokenly. _

_Dean smiled and opened the car door. Harry opened his eyes in surprise. Dean's hand was stretched out towards him, palm up. Harry took the offered hand and allowed himself to be helped out of the classic car._

_Dean kissed him again. "Let's go home."_

_It was only after Dean had entered Bobby's home that he realized John hadn't admitted to why Sammy was left out of the day's events._

* * *

NOW…

"It's been a month!" John exploded, tossing the book he was reading across the room.

Harry's quidditch reflexes kicked in and he used wandless magic to stop the spell book from obliterating itself against the wall. He summoned the book back to himself and stroked the binding to ensure it wasn't damaged.

"I know, John," Harry reminded his most recent partner in crime. "I've been working the whole time, too."

"Not here though," John muttered enviously. "You get to go hunting with Sam and Dean. You get to see the outside. Hell, I'd give my left arm to go to Burger King."

"Your doctor says that's not good for your cholesterol," Harry replied apologetically. "I'm sorry you can't leave the warded area, John. But at least I was able to expand it to include more of the woods. That's been good, yeah?"

John nodded reluctantly. "When is Dean coming to visit again?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, trying not to let his nervousness show through. "He's still trying to get Sam to come back to Bobby's."

After taking Dean to see his father and their talk in the Impala, Harry and Dean had arrived back at Bobby's only to find that Sam had taken off. He left a note saying that he was going to see a friend but no other information. They didn't even know if Sam was hunting.

"We find out which friend he's visiting yet?" John asked, as if reading Harry's worried thoughts.

"When Sam didn't come back, I made a list of them all and gave it to Dean," Harry reminded the oldest Winchester. "We've been checking in on them but so far we've got nothing."

John didn't reply but Harry caught the suspicious look in the man's eye.

"What is it?" Harry begged for what felt like the millionth time that month. "What is it about Sam that you're not telling Dean and I?"

John glared at him. "I thought you said you wouldn't ask about that anymore."

"If what you know has something to do with Sam's whereabouts than why shouldn't I ask?" Harry shot back. "Sam's my best friend and I want him home."

"You, yourself, said he wasn't in any danger."

"He calls to check in once a week, John," Harry replied. "That doesn't mean he's safe. We both know that."

"Let's just focus on the issue at hand," John said, changing the topic. He reached out for the book he'd just thrown and Harry begrudgingly handed it back to the man. "As long as he keeps checking in than I'm sure he's perfectly safe."

"You saying that to reassure me or to reassure yourself?" Harry asked as he angrily got off the couch and left the house. He liked reading outside better anyway. He wasn't Hermione, he preferred reading in open spaces and not in stuffy, enclosed libraries.

* * *

Harry apparated to Bobby's living room when he and John called it quits for the day. Neither of them had said goodbye. Sometimes Harry felt like he made progress with John and then they had days like today…

"How was Dad?" Dean asked as he walked out of the kitchen at hearing Harry's arrival. "You find anything on the Colt?"

"Just the usual," Harry sighed, collapsing into the comfort of Bobby's couch. "The only common link we keep finding is Armsmear."

"No idea what it is, yet?"

Harry shook his head. "John keeps saying it sounds familiar but he can't remember."

"Can't remember like it's just old age, or can't remember like one of Sirius' spells?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Like John is just forgetful," Harry replied, amused at Dean's question. Although he still noted the fear associated with anything magical. Harry wasn't worried though, he had a plan to get Dean over his fear of magic… something Dean would thoroughly enjoy.

"It's so weird hearing you call my Dad by his first name," Dean said, amused. "_I_ don't even call him that. Never thought you'd ever meet him let alone be on first name basis with him."

Harry chuckled along with Dean. "Don't let the familiarity fool you, that man still keeps me at arms length."

"I'm his son," Dean replied. "Believe me, I know what that feels like."

Harry sobered his expression when he realized what day of the week it was. "It's Thursday. Did Sam call again?"

Dean rubbed at his eyes and yawned. "Not yet. Been up all night waiting for him to call."

Harry sighed. "You realize he always changes the time of day he calls so that we don't know what time zone he's in, right?"

Dean nodded. "I taught him well."

"Why do you think he's hiding from us?" Harry asked quietly. This wasn't a topic Dean and Harry chose to spend their waking hours discussing. It was a cancer they chose to have devour them privately and in their dreams.

Little did they know Sam was having his own dream problems.

"I don't know, Harry, but whatever it is…" Dean shook his head and gripped his knee. "It's got to be bad if he's keeping us away from it."

"He'll call, Dean," Harry assured his boyfriend. Although Harry was getting less and less confident than he appeared.

* * *

Missouri watched Sam toss and turn in his sleep with a worried expression. How had she let it get this bad?

When Sam had shown up on her doorstep a month ago she had known something was wrong. It had taken Sam a few nights of torment before admitting everything to her. He'd confessed to terrible, terrible nightmares… but he'd made her promise to keep his secret until they found a way to correct it.

Missouri was quickly losing hope that they would find something to help Sam with his dreams. Over the weeks it became increasingly obvious that Sam wasn't suffering normal psychological damage. She'd hoped that losing Jess would have been the cause… that it was just emotions trying to work themselves out. All of the dreams involved Jess so they'd assumed that's all it was.

But then the dreams began to change, morph into an insane man's fantasies. Sam revealed that he once had a dream where an Olympic-sized swimming pool had been filled with blood. He'd felt at peace below its waters.

That was when Missouri started to panic. She'd called other Seers she'd known over the years, but after everyone lost their Sight they'd stopped staying in touch. Who was supposed to help her now? Who was supposed to help Sam?

Missouri gathered her courage and crept up to the small cot that she'd been letting Sam sleep on. His legs dangled out of the bottom of the bed, nearly hitting the floor due to his massive size.

"Sammy," she said, pushing his shoulder around in an effort to wake him. "Sam, wake up."

Sam moaned in his sleep and rolled over. Blood trickled out of the side of his mouth. Missouri gave a little shriek.

"Sam!" she cried out.

Hearing her scream, Sam immediately sat up in bed. His bedding pooled at his waist revealing his bare chest.

"What is it?" he asked, throwing the covers off of himself and moving to stand in front of Missouri. "What's wrong?"

Her hand shook as it pointed at his chest. "Look."

Sam glanced down at himself in confusion. He felt his body go flush as he saw the mark just above his left nipple. Two bruises, each crescent shaped faced each other in the shape of a kiss.

"What the…"

Missouri shook her head. "Your mouth is bleeding, too, Sam."

Sam tasted the coppery substance and felt warmth spread through his body. "It's just blood, Missouri."

"We need help, Sam," Missouri declared shakily. "I can't do this on my own anymore."

Sam frowned. "It'll go away. We just need to get help from one of your psychic buddies. They'll know what to do."

"If you're so sure it's not dangerous than why not tell your brother? Why not tell Harry?" Missouri demanded. "He's got powers. He could help!"

Sam shook his head angrily. "I keep telling you. I can't involve them."

"Why?"

"Because it feels wrong!" Sam shouted at his caretaker. "Every instinct in my body is screaming at me that only you can help me!"

Missouri took a hesitant step backwards. "Please don't yell at me, Sam. I'm only trying to help."

Sam sighed and hung his head in shame. "I know, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Missouri said in her most comforting tone. "It's time to call your brother anyway. He's probably been waiting up for it."

"Thanks for waking me," Sam replied as he led the way out of his room towards the living room phone. "I know it can't be easy having me around."

"You're family, Sammy," Missouri said simply. "Just… think about telling Dean. When you talk to him, maybe your instincts will change."

Sam promised to but neither he nor Missouri thought much of that promise. They both knew Sam was never going to tell his brother where he had been hiding out all this time.

* * *

The phone rang around 3am on Friday morning.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of the house phone's sharp rings echoing throughout Bobby's house. Dean practically leapt out of the bed at the sound and pounded down the stairs in record time. The phone only rang for the second time when Dean snatched it off the holder.

Harry followed Dean at a much more leisurely pace. He'd get his chance to speak with Sam when Dean was finished. Sam calling once a week to 'check in' had the advantage of guilt tripping him into staying on the line for an extended time. Although it had been of little use in trying to trace the call; twice Bobby had used his phone company contacts to try and track Sam but neither time had been successful.

"Sammy?" Dean breathed into the phone. Harry smiled at the warmth in Dean's tone. He snuggled up close to Dean so that he could listen into the conversation. Dean instinctively wrapped his muscled arm around Harry and pulled him in closer.

"Hey, Dean," Sam replied, his voice sounded tired and weak.

Dean frowned, clearly hearing the same thing in Sam's voice. "You, okay?"

"That's why I'm calling, Dean," Sam chuckled. "Once a week, remember? You're not going old on me, are you?"

Dean smiled. "Suck it, Sammy."

"I thought that's what Harry was for," Sam jibed.

Harry snatched the phone from Dean. "Oy, mate! Not cool!"

"Sorry, Harry," Sam apologized. "Didn't realize you were right there."

"Like that makes a difference!" Harry shouted into the phone as Dean tugged it out of his tight grasp.

"Wait your own turn," Dean told him, pulling him close again. "What's up, Sammy?"

Sammy sighed. "Nothing much. Still visiting friends."

"Bullshit," Dean called him out. "We've called all of your college friends. You haven't seen any of them in months."

"I told you not to waste time trying to find me," Sammy muttered. "You should be focusing on finding the spell for the Colt. Now that ours is gone we've got to make a new one. It's our only chance of finishing that fucker, Azazel, once and for all."

"Yeah, about that… you ever heard of something called Armsmear?"

Sam repeated the word a few times in his head. "Give me a minute."

Dean tapped his leg impatiently to the beat of an AC/DC song for a few moments as he waited for Sam to come back on the line. He strained his ears to try and hear any noise in the background.

"What's going on?" Harry whispered. Dean shrugged.

The noise of someone picking up a phone came over the line. It was quickly followed by Sam's voice. "Ask Harry if it's in reference to a Meadow of Arms?"

Dean didn't have to repeat the question. Harry heard it and immediately began nodding against Sam's chest. "Harry says it does."

Sam chuckled. "How long have you been looking for Armsmear?"

"About a week or so," Dean replied. "Why?"

"Did either of you try using Google?" Sam asked with a laugh. "Honestly it's like you're both afraid of technology or something."

Harry blushed as Dean glared at him. "No, I guess we didn't think to just Google it. Want to save us the trouble and just fill us in?"

"It's a mansion that was built by Samuel Colt," Sam explained, reading the details off of a website. "It's nickname was the Meadow of Arms. I doubt there's anything supernatural about it since it's been a tourist attraction for years."

Dean grabbed a pen and paper off the side table. "You got an address?"

* * *

_Stanford, Connecticut_

Harry looked up at the so-called mansion that Samuel Colt had constructed. Honestly it didn't look like something the most famous hunter in the world would have commissioned. There were no obvious supernatural markings or symbols. Hell, Harry couldn't even feel any wards inside the place.

Not to mention the location. The home had been constructed just outside the major city of Hartford, Connecticut. In fact it was one of the most visited cities in the state.

The other thing that upset Harry about Armsmear was that it was so… yellow. The entire place was painted with bright yellow paint and white accents. It was kind of an eye sore.

"Unless this place's main defense was that paint job than I don't see what good it could be at guarding anything," Harry insulted the house.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Dean said, unconsciously repeating what his own father had said to him on one of his first hunts. "You have to look for the monster underneath."

Harry stared at his lover. "Seriously? That's a horrible saying."

Dean shrugged. "That's John Winchester wisdom."

"Remind me to recommend that man for the Parent of the Year Award," Harry quipped before leading the way to the main door.

"Ten bucks says it's locked," Dean said as he followed behind Harry, casting careful glances around them.

Harry paused. "You know it's locked, don't you?"

Dean smirked at him. "There was a sign with hours on it by the front gate."

Harry sighed. "So are we breaking in or what?"

"Not unless you want the neighbors calling the police," Dean replied, flicking his eyes down the street.

Harry turned casually and swept his eyes in the direction Dean had indicated. Sure enough several neighbors were watching them from their yards, though they were attempting to be casual about it.

"Damn, suburbs," Harry whispered to Dean. "Let's at least look like we're just checking to see if it's open."

"Then what?"

Harry grinned at him. "Then I say we find a hotel and rest up until opening tomorrow."

Dean grinned back. "I like where you're headed with that."

* * *

Dean paused as he pulled out the motel key.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"It's just… we've been kind of avoiding doing this for almost a month now," Dean started awkwardly. "Are you sure we're ready to start… being physical again?"

Harry shook his head at the man. "Dean, I know you're trying to be respectful and repairing our relationship… but don't be a pansy about it."

Dean's eyes went wide at Harry's comment. "I'm not!"

"You, Dean Winchester, are asking if I am ready to fuck your brains out?" Harry asked incredulously. "I mean, c'mon Dean, I can see the hard on in your jeans."

Dean looked down and blushed. Sure enough, Big Dean was there for all the world to see.

"It's been awhile," Dean said defensively.

Harry leaned in a kissed him, sliding his tongue along Dean's bottom lip at the pace he knew always got Dean's engines revving. Harry softly stroked along Dean's forearm until he found the key.

"I'm ready, Dean," Harry stated plainly. "And so are you."

Harry pushed the key into the lock and opened the door. As they shut and locked the door behind them, clothes began to be thrown around the room as if a hurricane had obliterated them. Dean's shirt landed on the desk by the window. Harry's jeans fell through the open bathroom door. Only their underwear were treated with dignity and even then they simply slipped them off as they collapsed onto the bed.

Dean rolled on top of Harry, taking control of the situation. Harry moaned as he felt their bodies go flush on top of each other.

"It _has_ been a long time," Harry moaned, reminded painfully of their abstinence over the past month. "Who the fuck thought that we should be celibate this long?"

Dean nipped and licked Harry's neck. "I think it was a mutual decision."

Harry shook his head. "Wait."

Dean pulled back immediately although it looked as if it pained him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Harry smirked at him. "I want to use magic."

Dean swallowed nervously, his Adam's Apple bobbing frantically. "You're not gonna turn me into an animal, are you?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "Where did that come from?"

Dean flushed. "Just a nightmare I had once."

"No, Dean, I'm not going to turn you into an animal," Harry assured him as he gave his lover an eye roll. "I am going to use that spell that keeps us from climaxing though."

Dean nodded. "Probably a good idea. If I look at you any longer I'll probably blow."

"But I want to use something else, too."

"Like what?"

Harry wrapped his legs around Dean and shifted them both so that he was on top. Harry refused to answer, instead choosing to use his mouth on Dean's more sensitive areas. He had to apply the sustaining spell after he nibbled on Dean's right nipple… he'd forgotten how sensitive those things were.

"So when does the magic come into play?" Dean asked breathlessly. He wasn't sure if it was nervousness because Harry was going to use magic on him or because of what Harry's tongue was going to him.

Harry chuckled letting hot air hit the skin he'd just moistened. "You are so impatient."

"I'm excited," Dean defended himself.

"So I noticed," Harry joked, giving the offending appendage a good lick. "Part of the anticipation is knowing what's going to happen and waiting for it."

Dean gulped. "So… what's going to happen?"

Harry crawled up Dean's chest and lay flush against him. "Well… you know how I learned all those sex spells from my dorm mates?"

Dean nodded struggling to keep up with the words Harry was saying. It had been a month since they'd last done anything like this and his need was rising.

"There was this one spell that…" Harry trailed off as he moved further up Dean to put his mouth next to Dean's ear and whisper. "Well, let's just say that it lets me unhinge my jaw painlessly."

Dean's eyes rolled back into his head at the idea and the hunter nearly lost all of his control right then. If not for Harry's spell, he would have. Harry smirked at Dean's reaction and crawled back down his body.

After that night Dean would never say a word against magic.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is going to seem like a really short chapter but it's actually a little over 4,000 words. It's also only part one because I wanted to keep part two's plot line separate. Part one was just catching up after the time jump and finding Armsmear. Part two will be a little longer and is the first big action portion of the sequel. Should be fun!

I needed to do a time jump in the story because otherwise we would have had a month of pure mooshiness and relationship stuff. Thus I moved us forward to just catch the tail end of the drama. Frankly… I'm tired of writing the emotional stuff. Let's throw some action in the mix! Bring back the sex! Upgrade the violence!

Anyone who reads my other story, _Yanked from the UK_, already knows about this but… I'm sorry to say it but **this will most likely be the last chapter until December**. I am participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) where I will be attempting to write a full-length original novel in one month. I'll be writing approximately 3,000 words a day to accomplish this goal… so you can see how I won't have a lot of time to update this story until NaNoWriMo is over.

I'll do my best to write a little on the side in the hopes of updating _once_ during November, but I don't want to guarantee an update and then have to go back on my word. It's just not fair to anyone.

I hope no one completely bails on the story because of this, but I understand if this frustrates some people. I just wanted to be honest and give people a heads up.

Information on updates can be found on my twitter account (nativeboywonder).

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN** & don't forget to leave a **REVIEW!**

It really does make the writing go easier.


	7. Myth Conceptions, Part 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** Happy December! I hope each and every one of you had a fantastic Thanksgiving. I myself spent most of it writing and eating leftovers.

For anybody curious about how NaNoWriMo went, I did win. I wrote 50,000 words (or 51,397 words to be exact) of my original novel, _Harbinger_, which is the goal of the competition. Unfortunately this is only half the length of an actual novel so I still have some work to do before I can actually try to get it published. It's also in a very rough form, too, so rewrites will most definitely be in store LOL.

There have been a few requests to read my original novel (very flattering, by the way) and I'd love to make it available to anyone interested… once it's finished that is. When it is finished I'll let you know so you can check it out.

Don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter!

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 6:  
**"**Myth Conceptions – Part 2"**

"And then she caught my eye.  
The girl was looking fresh,  
And what was underneath it all  
was passion in the flesh.  
If you think you see the devil's horns,  
Baby, you're so right."

- Aerosmith, _Legendary Child_

_THEN…_

_Harry looked up at the so-called mansion that Samuel Colt had constructed. Honestly it didn't look like something the most famous hunter in the world would have commissioned. There were no obvious supernatural markings or symbols. Hell, Harry couldn't even feel any wards inside the place._

_Harry sighed. "So are we breaking in or what?"_

"_Not unless you want the neighbors calling the police," Dean replied, flicking his eyes down the street._

_Harry turned casually and swept his eyes in the direction Dean had indicated. Sure enough several neighbors were watching them from their yards, though they were attempting to be casual about it._

"_Damn suburbs," Harry whispered to Dean. "Let's at least look like we're just checking to see if it's open."_

"_Then what?"_

_Harry grinned at him. "Then I say we find a hotel and rest up until opening tomorrow."_

_Dean grinned back. "I like where you're headed with that."_

* * *

_NOW…_

Warm lips pressed themselves against Harry's bare shoulder. The sensation was a welcome change from the cool Connecticut air that their cheap motel room had been letting in all night. Dean loomed closer and wrapped an even warmer arm around Harry as his hand lightly stroked Harry's stomach.

Harry hummed contently until he remembered that he was mad at Dean. The Wizard debated letting the situation play out a little longer but decided that Dean would enjoy it too much.

Dean yelped as Harry harshly slapped the hand that was steadily moving from his stomach down to a lower location. "What was that for?"

Harry glared at Dean over his shoulder. "You know very well what that smack was for, Dean Winchester."

"Look, if this is about last night…"

Harry didn't bother listening to the rest of Dean's comment. Instead he slipped his underwear on and headed to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind him. As far as Harry was concerned Dean could handle his own morning sex rituals without any assistance from him.

Dean knocked lightly on the bathroom door with his knuckles. "Harry, don't you think this is a little childish?"

Harry snorted as he applied toothpaste to his brush. "Oh it's a whole lot childish, Dean. Frankly, I care about that as much as you cared about me last night."

"That was _not_ my fault!" Dean defended himself, his voice squeaking slightly at the end due to his embarrassment. "I was really – you know, _excited_ – and it just sort of happened."

Harry took the toothbrush out of his mouth and spat into the sink. "_I_ was really excited, too, Dean. It's been a month since we last groped each other let along had sex!"

"Exactly! That's why I didn't last as long as usual!"

"No, Dean, that's why I used the spell to keep you from climaxing early!" Harry shouted at the door, toothpaste spittle leaking out of his mouth from opening his mouth so much. "_You're_ the one who asked me to take it off of you. _You're_ the one who said you could handle it!"

Dean sighed and the sound of his head smacking against the bathroom door echoed with a dull thud. "I apologized for that but I've been explaining why I didn't last as long."

"That still doesn't explain why you wouldn't let _me_ get _my_ rocks off!" Harry retorted as he chucked the toothbrush back onto the sink counter. "Oh no, you were too 'tired' for that."

"I _was_ tired!"

Harry laughed mockingly. "As was demonstrated by your quick escape into dreamland and your monkey-like snores."

"I do not snore!"

"All you had to do was lay there, Dean, but you couldn't be bothered."

"Hey!" Dean barked through the closed door. "Don't blame a guy for not wanting something shoved up his butt!"

Harry swung open the door, catching Dean – who was still leaned up against it –

by surprise. Dean's momentum carried him to the tiled floor with a painful smack. Dean grimaced at the impact. "What the hell, Harry?"

Harry ignored the hunters' pain and instead moved to straddle Dean. Harry scooted down his body until his ass was resting directly on top of Dean's penis.

"You feel that, Dean?" Harry asked, moving slightly to generate friction. "That's _my _ass on your dick. Ignoring the mutual celibacy of the past month, this has been how the two of us have been sharing a bed for several years now."

Dean grinned slightly at the attention his lower extremities were getting. "Sure has, baby."

Harry smacked his lightly to bring him back to attention. "Stop getting turned on and instead focus on the double standard that is literally being a pain in my ass."

"You never complained before," Dean pointed out as he massages Harry's hips with his powerful fingers. "I thought you just liked being a bottom."

Harry sighed. "I do like being on the bottom, Dean, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to spice things up sometimes. Most of all, I thought we'd gotten over your issues about being in a homosexual relationship."

Dean blushed slightly. "So I'm not completely used to all the gay stuff. So sue me."

"Can you at least admit you're bisexual, Dean?" Harry asked seriously. "Or are you uncomfortable with that, too?"

"I like both the guys and the girls," Dean admitted without hesitation. "And I like you more than all the rest. But that still doesn't mean I want your dick up my ass."

Dean kept hold of Harry's waist as he flipped their positions. Since most of Harry's anger had dissipated from getting to throw Dean around the bathroom, he decided to just let the hunter resume control.

"It's going to happen eventually," Harry warned him.

Dean grimaced. "Maybe… but not until I'm ready."

"Of course."

Harry hummed as Dean leaned down to nibble on his earlobe. As much as Harry was enjoying Dean's attention, they had a pretty important job to do. "We're going to be late for the tour of the mansion."

Dean put a finger over Harry's lips in a quieting motion and shushed him. "The tour can wait, Harry. There's something more important going on right now."

"And what might that be, Dean?" Harry asked, playing along with Dean's antics for the time being.

Dean slid further down Harry's form, taking the Wizard's underwear with him. Harry shivered as he was once more consumed with the cold air. Dean quickly moved to warm him with his own body.

"I have a debt to repay, of course."

* * *

Harry let out a frustrated sigh as the Impala pulled into the same parking space they'd taken the day before. There were almost a dozen other cars lining the street outside of Armsmear Manor, each of them as empty as the one before.

"I told you we'd be late," Harry reminded Dean as he climbed out of the passenger seat. Dean flipped him the bird in response. A blonde woman pushing a stroller on the sidewalk gasped at the rude motion and scurried quickly down the street, eager to get her infant as far away from Dean as possible.

Harry smirked at the hunter. "Way to make a good impression on the neighbors, Dean. Want to see if we can find a church to burn down or a lovely condominium we can turn into a crack den?"

"Shut up," Dean muttered. "Let's go before we miss the tour."

Harry hurriedly crossed the street and caught up to Dean. He eyed the cars of the visitors who had arrived before them. "I didn't think some gun maker's mansion would be such a tourist attraction."

"Yeah, aren't there some Indian casino's like a few miles from here?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "And they like to be called Native Americans, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I think I just figured out how you were best friends with my brother."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded with a smirk. "You're both bossy know-it-alls."

Harry pinched the flesh on Dean's side. "It's not my fault you hunters are so uneducated in the real world."

"As far as I'm concerned _this_ is the real world," Dean replied patting the bulge under his jacket where he kept his gun hidden. "I can survive without knowing where Cambodia is on the map, but geography isn't going to help me kill some Vamp who's looking at me like I'm dinner."

Harry thought about that for a moment before nodding in acceptance. Dean smiled back at him, proud to have won an argument with one of the two college men in his life. Harry rolled his eyes at Dean's cocky grin and opened the door to the mansion.

Dean stepped in directly behind Harry and whistled appreciatively. "Now _this _is a house."

Harry couldn't help but agree. Despite the ugly exterior, the interior had clearly been designed to appear spacious and open to the world around it. Two large glass domes made up the main roof. Through the glass Harry could spot two of the towers that were at the edges of the mansion.

"Harry," Dean whispered, calling him over to the far side of the room. "Over here."

Dean was sifting through several pamphlets and fact sheets that were strewn across the table that was set against the back wall. A large mural of Samuel Colt decorated the wall behind the table.

"What is it?" Harry asked, already picking up his own copies of the information sheets.

Dean smirked at him and pointed to one of the passages. "Every gate, every balcony railing, every door handle is made of iron."

Harry nodded to show his understanding. "So clearly Colt really did know about the supernatural world. I was starting to think we were on a fool's errand."

"See what else you can find," Dean instructed. "I'm going to see if I can find where the other tourists are."

Harry flipped through the pamphlets, looking for any keywords that might point towards the famous gun maker being either a hunter or a wizard. According to the information the glass domes were built several years after the original mansion had been built. They had been designed after London's Crystal Palace, which Harry had never been to in his own dimension but he was determined to learn more about it now that it was linked to Colt.

Besides the iron, nothing really struck Harry as being distinctly magical or supernatural in nature. The house itself was built as an elaborate Italian Villa but Harry doubted that had anything to do with Colt's hunting.

_He may have just built the place as a safe place to keep his family_, Harry mused as he waited for Dean to return with news of the tour.

"Excuse me?" a small voice sounded just behind Harry shoulder, startling him.

Harry whipped around only to find a small girl waiting for him. The girl couldn't have been more than ten or eleven. She had curly blond hair that went down passed her shoulders and were tied neatly with bright blue ribbon. The ribbon went nicely with her blue plaid dress. Harry swore she looked exactly like the cartoon version of Alice from the Disney cartoon.

"Yes?" Harry replied with a short smile. "Can I help you, little girl?"

The girl smiled back at him, showing off pearly white teeth. "Are you here for the tour?"

Harry nodded. "And you?"

"No, silly," she shook her head causing some of her curls to fall over her shoulders. "My parents run the museum."

"My apologies," Harry bent down to the girls' height level. "I'm afraid my friend and I arrived a little late for the first tour."

She giggled. "Is he the big man with the short hair?"

Harry nodded, his smile widening. "Seen him, have you?"

"He wanted to know where the potty was," she whispered secretively to him. "I gave him directions but he looked very confused."

"He can be very thick headed," Harry agreed with a grin at the idea of Dean trying to get information out of this little girl. "It's a very big house, though. You must be very smart to know your way around it so well."

The girl puffed out her chest to show her pride. "Momma says I'm almost big enough to lead a tour on my own."

"Do you think you can show me and my friend to where the tour is now?" Harry asked. "We'd hate to have to wait for the next one."

"Well… okay," the girl agreed. "But you've already missed the first ten minutes."

"Is there a lot of interesting stuff in the first ten minutes?"

She nodded with wide eyes. "Of course!"

Harry chuckled. "Well then maybe you could fill my friend and I in on some of the highlights? Consider us your first tour."

"Sure!" she smiled sweetly. "Let's go find your friend and then we can start the tour."

Harry followed the girl out of the main reception area and down a small hallway. She skipped merrily along, moving easily around any display cases. Harry wondered if maybe her family occupied one of the living quarters upstairs for her to know the place so well.

"Are the bathrooms much further?" Harry asked.

The girl nodded without turning around. "Don't worry, I won't get us lost. I know a short cut."

"You know, I never got your name," Harry pointed out. "Mine's Harry by the way."

The young girl stopped skipping and turned back around to face him. Apparently the idea of being introduced to the guests was a foreign one to her. She smiled at him and stuck her hand out to shake his.

"It's nice to meet you, Harry," she greeted politely, clearly having been taught good manners by her parents. Harry squeezed back lightly so as to not cause her any discomfort.

"My name's Lilith."

* * *

The smell of bacon filled Bobby's kitchen.

He smiled as the meat crackled and sizzled on the stovetop. Bobby Singer now made his own breakfast and it was all Harry Potter's fault. Ever since Harry had begun buying proper food supplies and cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for the household of hunters, Bobby had gotten too comfortable with home cooking.

He'd tried to go eat the slop at the diner down by the highway, but damn if that food just wasn't doing it for him anymore.

"Damn magical cook," Bobby cursed Harry as he watched his bacon fry. "Can't even eat the cheeseburgers anymore."

The familiar chirping of the phone interrupted his cooking. Bobby cursed and turned the stovetop off. The last thing he needed was a grease fire and a house full of firemen poking through his weapons collection.

Bobby practically ripped the phone off the wall and barked, "Yeah?"

There was a static-filled silence on the other end for a few seconds before, "Bobby? Bobby Singer?"

"Missouri?" Bobby asked, surprised. "Is that you? I barely recognized the voice."

Missouri chuckled nervously. "Yes, sorry, I've been a bit busy lately."

"Thought you lost your Sight," Bobby pointed out, frowning. "What's been keeping you busy?"

"Don't get smart with me, Bobby Singer," Missouri whispered hurriedly into the phone. "I am calling to talk to you about what's been keeping me so busy."

"Alright, alright, no need to get bossy," Bobby replied as he collapsed into his office chair and pulled out a yellow legal pad and a pen. "Let me hear it."

Bobby heard Missouri breath heavily into the phone.

"Missouri?"

"I…" Missouri hesitated, glancing around her. "I'm not sure how to say this…"

"Well the easy way is to just spit it out," Bobby grumbled. "So just get on with it. I've got other things to do today."

Missouri closed her eyes and steeled herself. "I've been keeping an eye out for Sam Winchester."

Bobby straightened up in his chair. "Keepin' an eye out like vision-wise or keepin' an eye out as in he's at your place?"

"He's here," she confirmed, finally feeling the weight of that secret leaving her.

"Well how long's he been there, dammit?" Bobby practically shouted into the receiver. "You know how long we've been trying to find that giant ass of his?"

If she weren't trying to keep quiet Missouri would have chuckled out loud at that. She'd always enjoyed the humor that accompanied Bobby's straightforward demeanor. "He's been here the whole time. Drove straight from your place to mine."

"And you didn't think to tell us that?"

Missouri clenched her fists to keep herself from screaming at the man. "He made me promise not to tell anyone – especially you and the boys."

"Of all the dumb ass things…" Bobby grumbled just loud enough for the phone to pick it up.

"Did you just call me a dumbass?" Missouri demanded. "I don't appreciate that kind of talk in my house, Bobby."

"I ain't in your house, woman," Bobby snapped.

"Well your voice is, old man, so you best watch what you say." Missouri coiled the telephone cord around her wrist. "Besides I'm coming to you for help not condemnation."

"Is Sam alright?" Bobby asked quickly, his tone quickly softening. He didn't want Sam to be injured and have the two of them bickering as the boy bled to death on the floor.

Missouri wondered how best to answer that particular question. 'No' seemed like the appropriate answer but how the hell did she describe what was going on with him. Strange dreams, nightmares all times of the day and night, bruises that look like kisses, blood coming from nowhere… she didn't even know what was happening to the youngest Winchester.

"He's messed up," she decided on. "Something real strange going on in that boys head and I can't make heads nor tails of it."

"Whaddya mean by 'strange' Missouri?"

Missouri sighed. "I can't explain it but I'm scared, Bobby. I'm real scared."

Bobby sighed right back at her. "It's always something with these boys, isn't it?"

"You got that right."

Bobby quickly scribbled a few notes about their call on the legal pad. "Give me some of his symptoms. I'll see what I can look up."

The sound of Sam twisting and moaning in the bed began to lessen.

Missouri's voice caught in her throat. "I think he's waking up."

"Good," Bobby grumbled. "He can tell me himself."

"No, Bobby," Missouri whispered hoarsely. "He can't know we spoke… I… I don't know what he'd do."

Bobby frowned. "Surely he wouldn't hurt you, Missouri."

"You don't know what it's been like, Bobby," she murmured, barely moving her lips. "He grabbed me once when I said he should talk to Dean… his grip was so tight, that I…"

"Missouri?" Bobby growled into the phone, his fist tightening on the handle. "Missouri?"

There was a click and then the line went dead.

Bobby slammed the phone down on the handle. "Son of a bitch."

* * *

Dean yawned as Lilith stated another architectural marvel about Armsmear. Harry smacked his arm and gave him a dirty look. Dean rolled his eyes at Harry's attempt to keep the little girl happy and proud of her tour. Frankly there were about a million and a half other tortures he'd rather be enduring than listening to some nerdy little girl prattle on and on and on…

"And that's the armory!" Lilith exclaimed excitedly, pointing out the window at a long barn-like structure. "It was the main headquarters for the Colt manufacturing line."

"That's where they made all Colt's guns?" Dean asked as he moved to stare out of the window. "Finally something I care about."

Harry shook his head at Dean's lack of manners. "Don't worry, Lilith, he just means he really likes guns. I'm sure Dean's enjoying your tour every bit as much as I am… right, Dean?"

Dean sighed and plastered a false smile on his face. "Totally."

Lilith smiled thinly but continued on with her tour, leading them down another long corridor. "These were the private quarters of the Colt Family..."

Harry moved to follow after the little girl but Dean caught his elbow and held him back. Dean made a shushing motion when Harry looked like he was about to complain. When he was sure that Lilith was out of hearing range, Dean turned and began to lead Harry back the way they had come.

"Where are you going?" Harry questioned, sounding annoyed. "She's going to be upset that we ditched her."

"I couldn't take it anymore. All of those facts just kept spewing out of her mouth." Dean shuddered at the memory. "Besides we should find our own way around the place. It's not like she's just going to lead us straight into Samuel Colt's secret magical lair or anything."

Harry nodded in agreement. "She was nice, is all."

"You are such a sucker for kids."

"And that's a bad thing?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "We have a job to do, Harry, so nut up. There'll be plenty of time to see her dolly collection after we find Colt's spell books."

As soon as Dean and Harry turned the corner they stopped dead in their tracks. Two men were blocking the hallway, both of them fairly well muscled. The first was just reaching middle age. His clothes were stained with engine grease. At least Harry assumed it was engine grease since he was holding a tire iron. The second man was young enough to be Sam's age and looked plain enough except for the large butcher knife in his hand. Harry assumed he was a recent high school graduate.

"Uh, Harry," Dean mumbled hesitantly. "I don't remember this being on the tour."

Harry shook his head. "Me either."

The pair began to walk backwards slowly so as to not startle the two locals into doing anything violent. Unfortunately every step Harry and Dean took the other two men took a step in pursuit.

"Should we run?" Harry asked, eyeing the doors around them with renewed interest. He tried to remember what they were from Lilith's tour.

As soon as Dean nodded his agreement the two men's eyes turned jet black. Harry sucked in air as he recognized the telltale sign of demonic possession. Dean pulled out the gun he kept hidden inside his coat and kept it pointed between the two demons as he waited to see which would strike first.

"Now," Dean muttered, already turning his back on the demonic pair and breaking into a sprint. Harry was only a second behind, alternating his focus between not tripping on the antique rug and their pursuers. They ran down two corridors before finding a back staircase.

Harry slowed as he realized that the demons hadn't reappeared behind them. Dean was already looking at the stairs, trying to determine whether they should go up or down. Harry patted him on the shoulder and nodded behind him.

"They aren't following us," Dean realized. He looked questioningly at Harry. "Did you do something to slow them down?"

Harry shook his head. "Something's going on, Dean. Demons appear right when we get away from the tour and chase us back onto the right path…"

"You think they're trying to push us in one direction?"

"I think they're herding us," Harry confirmed glancing around them. "Which means that if they aren't following us then we're right where they want us."

Dean swallowed. "So what do we do?"

Harry conjured a flame. "We can't let them lead us around by the nose, Dean. If there's one thing we know it's that you don't want to follow directions given by a demon."

"So we fight," Dean replied as he cocked his gun. "Up or down?"

"How about neither," Harry suggested, grinning when Dean sent him a confused look. Harry extinguished the fireball and instead turned to face the wall facing away from the staircase. "REDUCTO!"

The wall – which should have exploded – instead rippled like water and absorbed the spell. To Harry it looked like a cannonball being shot into the ocean. The wall then vibrated as if taking the energy of the magic that had been cast against it. The vibrations continued until the wall looked as if it were about to topple over. Harry's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

"Get down!" Harry shouted grabbing Dean by the waist and hauling him to the floor. A second later and the curse rebounded out of the wall and shot directly over their heads, exploding as it collided with the staircase. However it wasn't the staircase that exploded but the spell itself.

Harry and Dean were flung bodily down the stairs by the force of the magic being undone. When Harry would later look back on it he would describe it as a magical grenade above them.

As it was it was a miracle they didn't break any bones as they rolled down the staircase. Bruised and bloody they landed in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. Dean coughed and groaned at the pain in his chest, worried he'd fractured his ribcage.

"I assume that wasn't what you meant to happen?" Dean quipped angrily before spitting some blood onto the floor next to him.

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand. That's never happened before."

Before Dean could reply they were startled by the sound of someone clapping behind them. Harry turned at the noise and frowned as he recognized the little girl, Lilith, and the two demons from upstairs.

"I always wondered what would happen if someone tried to destroy this house," Lilith said, looking at Harry with awe. "I guess it's a good thing I never set fire to it. As tempting as it might have been."

Dean gave her a dirty look. "Happy to entertain, demon-bitch."

Lilith's smile – if possible – stretched even wider across her angelic face. Her eyes flashed but instead of the normal black color they turned into a glowing white light. Harry had to look away from her eyes because they were so unsettling.

"Don't be afraid, Harry," Lilith murmured stepping closer to him. "I wouldn't kill you. Hurt you, maybe, but never kill. You're too special."

"Thanks… I guess," Harry replied shooting Dean a concerned look. "Any chance you'll just let us go?"

Lilith shook her head slowly. "I wondered what little secret Azazel was keeping from me. I never thought he'd find something like you, though. It explains why he's been so occupied lately."

Dean's eyes flashed with anger at Azazel's name. "You know that yellow-eyed bastard?"

"Of course," Lilith grinned. "Azazel and I were the first. We're practically family."

"The first?" Harry echoed.

Lilith nodded. "When father fell from Heaven he made my kind, the Demons. Azazel was the second. I was the first."

"_You?_" Dean scoffed, disbelieving. "You want us to believe that you're the first demon ever?"

Lilith turned her white eyes on Dean. Harry felt panic flare in his stomach as Dean began to cough and choke on his own blood.

"Stop," Harry ordered Lilith but the demon continued to ignore his pleas. Dean fought through his pain and raised his weapon. The gun fired and Lilith's head snapped back as the bullet embedded itself in her forehead. Immediately Dean slumped to the ground apparently free from whatever hold Lilith had on him.

The two bodyguards that had been standing behind Lilith rushed forward. Harry waved each of his hands at the demons magically throwing them into the wall at the end of the corridor. Another wave of his hand and both of the demon's necks were broken.

Harry crawled over to Dean and began checking the hunter over. "You okay?"

Dean nodded and glanced at the crumpled form of the fallen child. "Not much of a first demon is she?"

"I don't think she's done just yet, Dean," Harry murmured as he helped Dean into a standing position. Already they could see Lilith's small hand begin to twitch. "We should go."

Harry wrapped his arms around Dean and immediately transported them out of the hallway. As soon as they hit solid ground Dean stepped away and clutched at his stomach. Harry looked around them wondering where they had ended up.

"Couldn't you have just zapped us back to the car?" Dean whined as he looked around the room.

"I did," Harry replied defensively. "At least I tried to. Instead we ended up here."

"And 'here' is where exactly?" Dean asked. "Because I'm pretty sure we're still in the mansion."

Harry cursed and moved to grab onto Dean again. "Let's try once more."

Dean backed away quickly. "No, no, no. Whatever you did didn't work so if you don't mind let's just walk. I don't think my stomach could take another jump."

"Too late," Harry said warningly as a middle-aged woman with black eyes stormed into the room. "They already found us."

Dean turned and shot the demon in the head, her body immediately dropping to the floor. "I think we're winning so far."

"If they didn't know where we were before then they certainly do now," Harry rebuked him as he rushed forward to close the only door into the room. As Harry looked around he realized it was some sort of ballroom based on the piano Dean was pushing across the wooden floor.

* * *

"Always a spoil sport," Dean grumbled as he slid the piano against the door. "That should help keep them out."

"Now let's find a way out of here before they find a way in," Harry ordered already looking out the ballroom's windows. "Shit."

"What?" Dean asked as he joined him at the window. "Oh."

Harry and Dean felt their hopes of simply climbing out the window and jumping to the ground diminish in an instant. Crowds of possessed townspeople were gathered outside of the mansion. Some of the groups stared back at them while other pairs continued to stroll around the grounds as if they didn't care that two hunters were inside.

"At least we know who all of the other cars belonged to."

"They're patrolling," Dean surmised as he counted the possessed pairs. "We'll never make it to the car on foot."

Loud bangs erupted on the other side of the door. The combined demonic strength of their pursuers began to push the door open, the piano their only obstacle. Harry and Dean both rushed forward and put their weight against the piano. After a few minutes the two hunters were able to secure the piano once again.

"Can you handle this?" Harry whispered to Dean. "I'm going to see if I can figure out another exit."

"You can't do that while helping me push this?" Dean griped but Harry was already distancing himself from the piano.

Dean grunted as he held the piano up against the door, using all of his strength to keep the demons out. Harry could hear them banging and shouting on the other side as they tried to break their way into the room. It didn't matter how strong Dean was, they would find a way in eventually.

Apparently Dean had come to the same conclusion. "Can't you use some magic to seal this door or something?"

Harry shook his head. "Every time I meet a demon like Azazel or Lilith they mess with my magic somehow. I can't risk it not working."

"What about the thing where you jump from one place to another? Teleporting or something, right?" Dean suggested.

Harry rolled his eyes at Dean's description of apparition. "I've already tried that, remember? Colt must have put up anti-apparition wards or something."

"Well it's better than nothing!" Dean shouted.

"Not unless you think having your body parts randomly thrown across the town is a good idea. That's exactly what happens if you try it too hard!"

"Shit."

"Exactly," Harry shot back, racking his brain as he tried to process the room. "I'm thinking, Dean. Just give me a minute."

Dean laughed in exasperation. "Sure, take your time. Fancy playing a number on the piano? I promise I'll sing along if it's a Zeppelin tune. It's not like there are _demons_ or anything!"

Harry closed his eyes and tried to pool his mental focus. It was a trick that Snape had taught him in order to concentrate under pressure. Originally it was meant to be an Occlumency tool until Albus had reminded him that it could be used for…

Harry's eyes shot open and he snapped his fingers. "That's it!"

"What? What's it?"

"Magical sense," Harry explained. "If Samuel Colt was a wizard and a hunter then he must have combined the two to protect his own house. We know he used iron on the exterior and there's some magical residue on the walls. If I can use my ability to sense magic then I might be able to…"

Dean shook his head. "You know what? I only understand about three of those words so just – never mind. Just do it. I trust you."

Harry nodded and shut his eyes once again. He let his magic filter throughout the room, letting it poke and prod for any signs of magic. Mostly he just found protection wards interlaced with the paint on the walls, which explained why the demons weren't just breaking in through another room; the doors were the only weak points.

_What about the fireplace?_ Harry thought, his magic already trying to answer him. Tendrils of his magic reached out and caressed the fireplace. The fireplace was marble and absolutely massive, as it was it could definitely fit a person.

"No way," Harry muttered as his eyes opened again. "No fucking way."

Dean was pushed back another inch by the demons on the other side of the door. "What? What did you do?"

Harry ignored him for the time being and stepped into the fireplace. He began rubbing his hands over the square slabs of marble, feeling the edges for loose points.

"Not exactly the right time for a cozy fire, Harry," Dean reminded him sharply.

Harry's fingertip snagged a marble tile that was sticking out slightly more than the rest. Harry gripped it and pulled, revealing a hidden compartment behind it.

"Actually, Dean," Harry smiled in wonder. "I think it's the perfect time for a fire."

A bright blue and hornet yellow bag slid out of the hidden compartment and dropped to the floor. Harry replaced the marble slab and knelt to grab the bag. As he lifted it up he felt the sand-like particles move inside the bag.

Harry moved back out of the fireplace and held his hand out, fingers pointed at the hearth. "INCENDIO!"

Flames flew from his outstretched fingers and rocketed into the fireplace. The flames licked every surface and rushed all the way to the roof where they burst into the sky. No doubt some curious neighbors were getting a light show today.

Harry held his hand out to Dean. "Come with me if you want to live."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm never letting you see another Terminator movie again."

"Aren't you the one saying we don't have a lot of time?" Harry reminded him, nodding pointedly at the barricaded door.

Dean gulped and stepped away from the piano. Immediately the force from the demons began to push the door (and thus the piano) further into the room. Harry gripped Dean's hand and rushed towards the fireplace.

"Harry," Dean muttered as they approached the flames, his eyes wide. "HARRY!"

The wizard chose to ignore him in favor of the bag in his hands. As soon as they were near enough Harry flung some of the powder from the bag at the flames. Immediately the fire began to change colors and their heat cooled.

Harry sent an amused smirk at Dean before pushing him into the flames. Dean closed his eyes and grimaced as the flames consumed him before forcing him to disappear. Harry turned to face the intruding demons who had stopped their forceful entry when they saw Harry throw Dean into the fire.

Harry shrugged at their surprised faces. "You're from Hell. Didn't you ever see flames like that down there?"

He didn't wait for the answer before flinging more powder into the fireplace and jumping into the waiting flames himself. He was careful to bring the powder with him so that the demons couldn't follow.

After all, Samuel Colt would probably take offense to letting a demon use his Floo.

* * *

Harry grunted as his hands and knees collided with hard stone floor. The bag of Floo Powder was crushed by the momentum of his hand hitting the floor sending a cloud of the stuff exploding in front of him.

Dean – who had apparently landed just in front of Harry – was hit head on with the powder. He sneezed and two jets of the powder shot out of his nose and onto the floor. Harry giggled at the sight.

"Just tell me this stuff isn't going to make my flesh fall off," Dean asked hopefully. Harry smiled at him and shook his head reassuringly. "In that case, mind telling me why you threw me into a roaring fire?"

"Later," Harry muttered as he stretched into a standing position. "First lets figure out where the Floo took us."

"Floo?" Dean asked quizzically.

Harry nodded. "Magical form of transportation using fireplaces. Normally you have to state an address or else it spits you out of a random fireplace. Since Colt was the only one to have built one I took a shot that it would only lead to one or two places."

"You 'took a shot' that we wouldn't end up in a _real_ fireplace?" Dean quoted back at him, the anger and disbelief etched on his face only enhanced by the Floo Powder still stuck to him. "Not cool, Harry."

"It was an educated guess," he amended in an effort to appease Dean. "Lumos!"

A ball of glowing white light appeared and began to hover between Harry and Dean. Harry mentally guided the light in the direction he wanted, pushing it further and further up the ceiling until most of the room was illuminated.

"It's hard to see with just the ball of light," Harry apologized as he tried to see what else occupied a room that clearly meant a lot to Samuel Colt. "I'll conjure a few more so that we can see better."

Suddenly the room flooded with light and Harry covered his eyes, surprised at the sudden onslaught of illumination.

"Or," Dean quipped with a grin, "we could just hit the light switch."

Harry glared at him. "How clever, Dean."

Dean preened. "Sometimes magic is just overkill, love."

"Actually, I think these lights are magic," Harry observed as he moved closer to the chandelier that hung in the center of the room. "How else would these lights stay active all these decades?"

Dean whistled with appreciation. "This Colt guy really knew how to combine the best of both worlds, huh?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "It looks like he was quite the inventor."

Dean joined Harry at what appeared to be a large workstation on one side of the room. A long workbench stretched across the entire wall. Mounted above the table were several blueprints of buildings and what appeared to be machines.

"You think the plans he used to make the Colt are in here?" Dean asked as he eyed the drawings with a look that neared reverence.

Harry nodded. "I think we lucked out by landing here instead of some secret sex chamber or something. Let's see what we can find, okay?"

"You sure the demons won't be able to get in here?" Dean asked worriedly, eyeing the fireplace they had tumbled out of.

"That powder on your face is the key to accessing the Floo," Harry explained as he flipped through several large papers with drawings on them. "It'll take them awhile to figure out how to use it. Then they'll have to find some more powder to use… which should be near impossible since it's in here with us."

"What if there's another fireplace in the house that's a Floo?" Dean questioned.

Harry's eyes widened slightly but otherwise he didn't act concerned. "Just start gathering up what you can, okay? We'll take this scouting mission on the road."

* * *

An hour later and Harry had come to respect the famous Samuel Colt a great deal. The man was an absolute genius when it came to combining magic and Muggle technology. Harry had only briefly skimmed some of the man's journals but already he was beginning to understand why his magic didn't always work against more powerful demons.

Harry added the rest of the journals to the stack of papers they'd decided to take with them. Dean eyed the growing pile uneasily. "Bit of light reading there?"

"It's very informative," Harry replied, throwing more rolled up blueprints onto the pile. "I've added some protective and preservation charms to these in case we have to make a run for it."

"Yes, you haven't yet explained our escape plan," Dean said pointedly.

Harry shrugged. "That's because I don't have one yet."

Dean nodded mockingly. "Huh-uh and, uh, this'll just be a play it by ear type escape?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry answered, cupping Dean's cheek with his hand. "Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Dean pulled his face away from Harry's hand, leaving patches of powder on Harry's skin. "Don't take this the wrong way but you're being really chill about this whole day."

Harry grinned at Dean. "For years I've searched for answers about this world and my place in it, Dean. And now, thanks to Samuel Colt, I'm finally getting the answers to those questions. I can't help but feel pretty buzzed about the whole thing."

"And while I'm super happy for you, Harry, we still need a concrete plan to get out of here without losing any limbs," Dean replied. "We just went through all these papers and there's nothing in them that could help us get out?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, letting his excitement die down so that he could face the situation at hand. "There might be one thing…"

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"Probably not."

* * *

Harry finished shrinking the paperwork they'd taken from Colt's workshop. He handed half the pile to Dean who began shoving the papers into his pockets. Harry rolled his eyes and reminded himself how happy he was that Colt had magically protected all of his designs from being harmed.

"You ready?" Harry asked as he finished putting his own half of the papers in his pockets. He sealed both of their pockets with a flick of his wrist so that none of their cargo accidentally got out. They didn't want their trip to be a complete bust after all.

Dean took a deep breath. "Not really, no."

Harry smirked at him and threw the rest of the Floo Powder into the flames. As they changed color Harry took Dean's hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Dean smiled at him just before the pair leapt into the flames and their world began to spin.

"Nice of you to join us again," Lilith greeted them as they hit the ground roughly.

Harry glared at her from beneath his unruly bangs. He was pleased to see that while Lilith had recovered from Dean's bullet that the injury was still there for the world to see. Apparently Lilith noticed his gaze because she leaned forward to give him a better look.

"I kind of like it," she quipped, giggling innocently. "It's quite the conversation starter."

Dean smirked. "Let me know if you'd like another to match."

Lilith snapped her fingers and immediately strong arms locked themselves around both Harry and Dean. Harry struggled in the demon's embrace while Dean just resigned himself to the treatment. The demon holding Dean plucked the gun from his hand and put it in his own belt.

"We wouldn't want you doing anything stupid… again," Lilith explained. "Especially not after how well we've all been getting along."

Harry scoffed. "You have serious social problems."

"I don't know about that. People seem so willing to talk to me, Harry," Lilith replied as she stalked towards him. "They just open right up."

Harry screamed as the skin on his forearm sliced open. Blood poured from the wound, staining the pale wood of the old-fashioned dance floor. Harry stared in horror as he saw his own bones and tendons moving with each squeeze of his fist.

"Let him go!" Dean shouted, finally struggling against his captor. He began to kick and thrash wildly. "We'll tell you what you want to know."

Harry hissed as the wound sealed itself, his flesh burning as Lilith cauterized the wound. "Yes," she added as she walked towards Dean. "You will."

"What do you want to know?" Harry demanded, still feeling weak from her attention.

Lilith smiled at him. "In time, Harry. For now my brethren will show you to your rooms."

Harry wasn't so much shown out of the room so much as dragged from it. The demon literally lifted him a few inches into the air and carried him across the threshold of the room.

Every moment that Dean and Harry were taken farther away from Lilith's presence Harry used to concentrate on his magic. When he felt that he'd built enough – and that they were a decent distance from Lilith – Harry winked at Dean. The hunter nodded back to demonstrate that he'd understood their prearranged signal.

Dean began fighting against his captor once more, this time putting up a larger struggle. The demon holding Harry paused to watch its partner tried to get Dean back under control. Harry used the distraction Dean provided to clap his hands together and push as much raw magical energy into it as possible.

The demon's grip tightened on Harry as it felt the heat coming from the magical surge. The strength of the demon's arms was that of a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey. It was no wonder why they'd decided it would be safer carrying Harry and Dean this way; enough of a squeeze and their ribcage could break and pierce a lung.

It didn't matter though; as soon as Harry had put his hands together it had been too late to stop him. Harry kicked his legs against the opposite wall and pushed himself and his captor against the nearest one.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry shouted releasing the magic into the form of the strongest magic he knew. Harry felt weakened as soon as the magic left his grip but it had to be done.

The sight of the magic being absorbed into the wall transfixed all four of them. Unlike the simple 'reducto' spell Harry had used before, the power of the killing curse caused the entire corridor to shake. The only thing Harry could relate it to was the earthquake that he and Sam had experienced during their Stanford years.

Only much, much worse.

The demons instinctively dropped to the ground when the magic shot back out of the wall but it was of little use. The corridor was fairly narrow and with that amount of magical energy being released it was impossible to avoid it. Even down on the floor Harry felt like the imploding curse was shattering his bones.

Harry felt his captor's grip disappear as the demon was overcome by the trauma caused by the magic in the air. As it was Dean and Harry only remained conscious because of the protective spells he'd cast on them both before returning through the Floo. But even with Harry's magic helping them, Harry could feel blood trickling from his ears.

Dean grabbed onto Harry's elbow and pulled him towards him. Harry shrugged him off to show that he didn't need Dean to drag him. Dean nodded and began crawling towards the exit with Harry quickly trailing after him.

The demons bled to death behind them.

* * *

An hour later and Harry's ears were still ringing.

"That was like freaking Dawn of the Dead," Dean joked before howling out of the window of the Impala. The passengers from the cars around them stared at the crazy hunter celebrating his victory.

"Dean please try to control yourself," Harry pleaded as he hid the side of his face in his hand. The last thing he wanted was some kid snapping a picture of him on the highway with his cell phone. "We're on the highway after all."

"Dude," Dean shot back with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Do you realize what we just did? Who we escaped from?"

Harry nodded. "I do indeed, Dean. So maybe it's time to give Bobby a call and make sure _he_ knows that we're going on red alert?"

Dean sighed. "Fine, I'll check in with Mom."

Harry rolled his eyes at the mental image of Bobby's reaction to Dean calling him 'Mom' would be. Dean pulled his cell phone out and turned it on. Immediately it began to beep at him. "Is that for voicemail?"

Dean nodded. "No one ever leaves me a voicemail."

"So check and see who it is," Harry suggested, checking the mirrors to make sure they were still clear of any tails. "It must be important, right?"

Dean nodded and flipped the phone open. Harry could tell something was unsettling him but Dean wouldn't say what. Soon enough Dean was punching in the code to his inbox and the message began to play.

"It's Bobby," Dean relayed to him as he listened to his message. "Something about Missouri and… and Sam."

Harry looked at the hunter sharply. "What about Sam?"

"I dunno. Something's wrong." Dean threw the phone onto the back seat. "He didn't want to say anything more over the phone lines."

"We'll be there in a day or so, Dean," Harry reminded him, trying to help.

Dean shrugged and put his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "I just hope it isn't too late by then."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! I hope it was worth the wait.

I know it's been a long time since we've last spoken and I can honestly say that I've missed you all. NaNoWriMo is difficult for many reasons but I think the most agonizing one is that there is ZERO feedback on your story as it progresses. You all know that you are my editors, right? If you don't like something I try to fix it in a later chapter. You guys also catch all my continuity errors and point out when I make glaring errors. Sadly, my story really could have used you…

My time away at NaNoWriMo was not all focused on my original novel. Lucky for you all I took some time to look over the outline of this story and got to tighten it up. We only have 9 more chapters before the thrilling conclusion of _When the Lightning Strikes _and I'm going to make each and every one of them as exciting as I possibly can. Of course, this will probably mean cliffhangers but I'm going to make more of an effort to make faster updates so that they won't be so bad. Other good news is that the chapters will be longer, too, as demonstrated by this nearly 10,000 word chapter.

Here's the deal on updates… Now that I'm writing two stories simultaneously I need to find a better balance between updates. I've been sort of neglecting – okay, okay, I _have_ been neglecting this story in favor of _Yanked from the UK_ because it's so much easier to write. **In an effort to be fairer to each of my stories I'm going to update once every 10 days, alternating between **_**When the Lightning Strikes **_**and **_**Yanked from the UK.**_ So if you read both stories then this is welcome news! If you just read one or the other then at least you're getting an update once or twice a month… so it's still good news!

Please don't forget to **REVIEW** letting me know what you thought!


	8. Brawl in the Family

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** First off, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! I hope everyone enjoyed spending some quality time with their loved ones. I know I did which is why this chapter is a little late. Well, that and I lost power for two days because of a blizzard the day after Christmas. I enjoy the idea of a White Christmas as much as the next guy but that was going a bit far…

This is a very important chapter (a milestone if you will) in the series for several reasons. The first is that this is **THE longest chapter in the **_**history**_** of the series**, which includes the previous story as well. Another big reason is that this chapter answers a lot of questions from the first story and hints at some others. So be on the lookout for answers to mysteries started as far back as chapter 3 of _You Leave the World Behind_…

Finally, this chapter is very important because it has **CHARACTER DEATH**. Just warning you that your probably won't like it, but I ask that all flames are put on hold until the next chapter is posted and more is explained.

A final note before we get to the story. I always put lyrics at the beginning of the chapter and some tend to work better than others. But when it comes to Sam's demonic issues I couldn't have asked for a better song to take lyrics from than the one down below. So if you usually skip the lyrics you might want to make an exception this one time…

As always, don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 7:  
**"**Brawl in the Family"**

"Well I've been dying.  
The fortune teller looked into my eyeballs,  
The wrinkles on her face about to crack.  
She said you best believe it, you ain't going nowhere,  
Unless you get that monkey off your back.  
Well, I made believe the devil made me do it.  
I was the evil leader of the pack.  
You best believe I had it all and then I blew it,  
Feeding that fucking monkey on my back."

- Aerosmith, _Monkey on My Back_

_THEN…_

"_Don't be afraid, Harry," Lilith murmured stepping closer to him. "I wouldn't kill you. Hurt you, maybe, but never kill. You're too special."_

"_Thanks… I guess," Harry replied shooting Dean a concerned look. "Any chance you'll just let us go?"_

_Lilith shook her head slowly. "I wondered what little secret Azazel was keeping from me. I never thought he'd find something like you, though. It explains why he's been so occupied lately."_

_Dean's eyes flashed with anger at Azazel's name. "You know that yellow-eyed bastard?"_

"_Of course," Lilith grinned. "Azazel and I were the first."_

"_The first?" Harry echoed._

_Lilith nodded. "When father fell from Heaven he made my kind, the Demons. Azazel was the second. I was the first."_

"_You?" Dean scoffed, disbelieving. "You want us to believe that you're the first demon ever?"_

* * *

"_Dude," Dean shot back with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Do you realize what we just did? Who we escaped from?"_

_Harry nodded. "I do indeed, Dean. So maybe it's time to give Bobby a call and make sure he knows that we're going on red alert?"_

_Dean sighed. "Fine, I'll check in with Mom."_

_Harry rolled his eyes at the mental image of Bobby's reaction to Dean calling him 'Mom' would be. Dean pulled his cell phone out and turned it on. Immediately it began to beep at him. "Is that for voicemail?"_

_Dean nodded. "No one ever leaves me a voicemail."_

"_So check and see who it is," Harry suggested, checking the mirrors to make sure they were still clear of any tails. "It must be important, right?"_

_Dean nodded and flipped the phone open. Harry could tell something was unsettling him but Dean wouldn't say what. Soon enough Dean was punching in the code to his inbox and the message began to play._

"_It's Bobby," Dean relayed to him as he listened to his message. "Something about Missouri and… and Sam."_

_Harry looked at the hunter sharply. "What about Sam?"_

"_I dunno. Something's wrong." Dean threw the phone onto the back seat. "He didn't want to say anything more over the phone lines."_

"_We'll be there in a day or so, Dean," Harry reminded him, trying to help._

_Dean shrugged and put his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "I just hope it isn't too late by then."_

* * *

_NOW…_

As luck would have it Harry and Dean didn't have to worry about traveling all the way back to Bobby's place in South Dakota. Despite Bobby being worried about talking over open airwaves he did reroute them to Kansas, which they could reach faster. What was most surprising was that Bobby would be meeting them there.

"You realize that means he was already on his way, right? You know, before he left the message on my phone," Dean pointed out nervously as they passed the state line between Missouri and Kansas. "It's got to be big if Bobby's leaving his home state."

Harry tried to keep his own nerves in check since Dean's were getting the best of him. "Bobby's been outside of Sioux Falls before, Dean. He _is _still a hunter."

Dean nodded. "I know that but this is different. Bobby's the research guy. He's the one everyone calls to cover their ass if they get caught by the cops. Sam must be in some serious shit if Bobby's worked up enough to join us in person. That's all I'm trying to say."

"It'll turn out just fine in the end," Harry said hopefully. "After all, there's nothing that you, me and Bobby can't handle. Right?"

"Sure."

* * *

A few hours later and the Impala slowed into a stopped position next to Bobby's large truck. As it was Dean had to lean his head out of the driver's side window just to look up at the other driver. Bobby rolled down his window and shook Dean's hand in greeting.

"You brought the paddy wagon," Dean observed, giving Bobby an unreadable look.

Bobby nodded seriously. "Thought me might need her."

"What's a paddy wagon?" Harry asked as he slid across the seat to get a better look at the truck in question. "More importantly why do we need one?"

"It's what they used to call cop cars used for transporting prisoners," Dean explained as he pointed to Bobby's truck. "That's what we use this hunk of metal for."

"I thought hunters didn't take prisoners?"

Bobby nodded. "It's more of a nickname really. We just use this to secure some of the bigger beasties until we can dispose of them."

Harry swallowed. "So we're dealing with something big, I guess?"

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean added, looking back up at the older hunter. "Why are we meeting a few blocks over from Missouri's instead of at her actual house?"

"I'll fill you in when we get there," Bobby answered cryptically, already rolling up his window in order to cut off any further questions.

Harry squeezed Dean's hand in a fruitless attempt to settle his nerves. Clearly something was wrong and Bobby didn't want Dean freaking out until they were at Missouri's. Dean quickly turned the Impala around and tailgated Bobby's gigantic truck all the way to Missouri's house.

Harry felt his stomach drop as he saw the yellow crime scene tape that had been put up around the edges of Missouri's property. Dean practically exploded out of the car the moment it went into park. Harry rushed to get his seatbelt off so that he could stop Dean from doing anything reckless.

Dean ducked under the police tape and marched up to the front door and began to pound on it. Harry cast a cursory glance around the neighborhood to make sure no one was watching them. Luck seemed to be with them in that regard as none of Missouri's neighbors were out for a jog or overly snoopy.

"I'm gonna break this fucking door down!" Dean shouted as he stepped a few feet back and got ready to ram the door with his weight. Harry rushed forward and caught the hunter around the waist to stop him.

"Dean!" Harry yelled into his ear as the other man struggled against him. "That's not going to do any good! Look at the door for Merlin's sake."

Dean stopped fighting him long enough to finally notice the seal on the door that had the police seal on it. When Harry had been injured at Stanford he'd spent a great deal of his recovery time watching cop procedural dramas and had picked up a few pointers. That particular seal was used to ensure that crime scenes were not disturbed. The police would know if Dean had broken into the house and then they would be in even deeper water than they were usually in.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized apparently coming to the same conclusion about the seal as Harry had. "I just wanted to know what happened."

"Then maybe you two idjiots would interview a neighbor or two instead of drawing so much attention to yourselves," Bobby lectured them as he appeared from around the corner of the house. "You two were so obnoxiously poor at being stealthy that I'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice you."

"Sorry, Bobby," Harry replied before kicking Dean in the shin to make him join in on the apology. As it was Dean just smiled guiltily at Bobby to convey his shame. "It won't happen again."

"You spoke to the neighbor?" Dean pressed moving to stand closer to Bobby so that their conversation didn't carry down the street. "What they say about what happened here? Is Sam alright? Is Missouri okay?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You want to keep pestering me with questions or do you want me to answer one of them?"

Dean sighed. "Just tell us everything."

"Neighbor lady says that two afternoons ago the police and an ambulance showed up in front of Missouri's house," Bobby explained in as calm a tone as he could manage. "A woman matching Missouri's description was taken to the hospital but none of the neighbors knew why."

Harry gulped. "How bad was it?"

Bobby gave him a sharp look. "Bad and that's all I'm saying about that until we get to the hospital and figure out our next move."

Dean caught Bobby by the sleeve as he was about to take off. "What about my brother? Is he also at the hospital?"

"He wasn't at the house when the cops and the medical workers showed up, Dean," Bobby replied. "But don't worry, Missouri'll remember something worth mentioning. We'll find him."

* * *

John jumped slightly in his chair as he heard someone knock at the door. The hunter had been waiting for Harry and Dean to show up but they'd been overdue for several days now. Despite his urgent need to know what had happened in Armsmear, John took calm steps to the door. After all he didn't want them to think he was being overly concerned.

"Hey, John," Harry greeted as he stepped across the threshold of the door and walked directly to the living room.

John popped his head outside and glanced around before shutting the door. "Dean's not with you?"

Harry shook his head. "We ran into a few complications in Connecticut but that can wait. We have some other issues to discuss first."

"What issues?" John asked quickly. "Is Dean okay?"

"He's fine," Harry replied before waving his hand at the couch. "Why don't you sit down and I'll fill you in."

John walked cautiously to the living room while giving Harry suspicious glances. "If everyone's fine than why do I have to sit down?"

"We were on our way back here when Bobby called us," Harry explained as he took his own seat across the coffee table from John. "He got some kind of distress call from Missouri. She said she was in trouble… and that Sam was with her."

John got an angry look on his face. "How long has he been with her?"

"From what Bobby gathered from Missouri's phone call, Sam's been staying with her since he left South Dakota," Harry answered quietly.

John stood up and punched the air in an effort to relieve his frustration. He began to pace around the room. "The whole time he's been there. The whole fucking time? And she never said a goddamn word?"

"Apparently Sam asked her not to."

"Why would he do that?" John demanded. "Why would he hide from us?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Apparently he'd been suffering from some very serious nightmares."

"Nightmares?" John asked with a laugh. "After everything Sam's seen and done why should he go running from some stupid dream?"

"Clearly it wasn't just any kind of dream, John," Harry pointed out. "Missouri said it wasn't natural the things that were happening to him. The lack of sleep was changing his mood, the fatigue was… it wasn't good."

"So what happened?"

"Missouri was scared of Sam," Harry admitted. "She called Bobby for help but by the time we got there…"

John rubbed at his eyes. "Just tell me what he did."

"We don't it yet if it was Sam," Harry clarified, not wanting to condemn his friend until the last possible moment. "But Missouri ended up in the hospital. Dean and Bobby are there now. They'll call me when she's awake."

John sighed as he sat back down. "And Sam?"

"No sign of him, but the police think that whoever was living in Missouri's house is the one who attacked her," Harry explained. "They had the place sealed up nice and tight. They're taking the investigation seriously."

"Why are you here?" John asked with a confused expression.

Harry frowned. "We didn't want to leave you in the dark about it."

"And since you're the only one who can travel back and forth in the blink of an eye, they sent you to tell me," John surmised.

Harry nodded. "They'll call if they need me."

John let the information settle in his mind before realizing how crazy he was going to drive himself if he just sat there and waited. What he really needed was a distraction, something he could keep focused on without having to feel anything – something hunter related.

"You get anything at Armsmear?"

"Uh, um, yeah." Harry was flustered at the sudden change in topic. He'd expected more of a reaction from a man whose youngest son was missing. "We got hold of some blueprints and journals from Samuel Colt's private workshop."

"Good," John said simply. "Let's see them."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather just wait until we find out more about Sam and Missouri?" Harry asked, wondering if it was a good idea to be working a case in the middle of this mess.

John nodded. "Positive. Let's see the Colt information."

Harry pulled out the shrunken materials that he and Dean had smuggled out of Armsmear and away from Lilith. So far he hadn't gotten the chance to resize them. John quirked an eyebrow as they were magically enlarged but otherwise said nothing about the blatant use of magic.

"These look promising," John complimented Harry as he began sorting through the materials. "You run into any trouble getting them?"

Harry chuckled darkly. "Calling what we went through 'trouble' would be a hell of an understatement."

John leaned forward. "Tell me everything."

* * *

The machines around Missouri's bed beeped and lit up at random intervals. Bobby and Dean sat awkwardly at the Seer's bedside waiting for her to wake up. The doctors had been keeping her on a strict chemically induced sleep regimen for the previous 48 hours. It was only by chance that Bobby and Dean had arrived on the first day she was allowed to enter a natural sleep pattern.

"You boys sure are quiet," Missouri commented, her eyes still closed. "Makes me feel like I'm in my coffin instead of just a hospital bed."

Dean and Bobby straightened up in their chairs. Missouri opened her eyes like a child peeking out at the world. She glanced around to see who else was in her room and adopted a disappointed look.

"What? No balloons, no chocolates?" the woman asked cheekily. "It's like you don't care at all."

Bobby leaned forward and took one of Missouri's hands in his own. "We're real sorry you ain't feeling well, Missouri."

Missouri smiled and patted Bobby's cheek in response. She then casually waved her hand at Dean, inviting him to take it. Dean rolled his eyes but nonetheless took the offered appendage.

A few presses of her remote controlled bed and suddenly Missouri was in a comfortable sitting position. She glanced around her. "Who ate my pudding?"

Dean shifted nervously. Missouri narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't even think of lying to me, boy. I may not have the Sight anymore but I can still read you like an open book – one I've read several times."

"I confess," Dean admitted throwing his hands up in surrender. "But don't you think there are more important things to be discussing than pudding?"

"Never underestimate the power of pudding," Missouri warned Dean but her smile was sad. "But you're right, you aren't here just to check up on me."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "For starters what happened after you hung up on me?"

"I didn't hang up on you," Missouri corrected. "Sam pulled the phone cord out of the wall."

Dean buried his face in his hands. Every last shred of hope he had that Sam wasn't responsible for this – that it had all been some terrible misunderstanding – was flushed down the toilet. If Missouri said Sam did it then it was true.

"I'm so sorry," Dean apologized despondently. "I wish I could do something to take it back for him."

Missouri patted his hand and smiled, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on her bruised eye and her fat lip. "It's not your mistake to correct."

The trio were interrupted by a pair of uniformed police officers walking by. Both officers glanced in at them until Missouri smiled and waved at them, signaling that all was well.

"Aren't you popular," Bobby said with a wink.

Dean worried his lower lip. "You didn't tell them anything, did you? I mean I know how upset with Sam you must be but you wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Don't worry, sugar," Missouri reassured Dean. "I gave the police a false description of my so called 'attacker'. Unless of course Sam suddenly is of normal height and has blonde highlights."

Dean shook his head sadly. "Why would you help him after he did this to you?"

"Because he wasn't right," Missouri explained, waving her hand around her chest. "On the inside, I mean. It just wasn't the same Sam."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "You think he was possessed?"

Missouri shook her head. "It wasn't that simple, sugar. His eyes never turned black, he didn't shy away from silver or salt. It was like something was changing him from the inside out."

"You realize you aren't making a lick of sense, right?" Bobby interjected concern etched across his facial features. "You sure that medication isn't making you loopy?"

"I know what I saw," Missouri replied as testily as she could pull off in her condition. "I lived with that boy for over a month, Bobby Singer. Before that I changed his diapers and babysat for you, Dean. Don't tell me I don't know what is and what is not Sam Winchester behavior."

"That's why you called Bobby on his emergency line," Dean surmised. "You realized there was something wrong with Sam."

Missouri nodded. "I knew long before that but I just didn't want to face it. And Sam… well, he didn't want to face anything. That's why I had to wait for him to fall asleep before I made the call. Not that it did me much good."

Dean looked at her injuries and felt his stomach somersault. "Sam did this to you after he caught you calling Bobby?"

"He was so angry," Missouri recalled, her eyes dilating as she relived the fear of that moment in her minds eye. "The look in his eye as he screamed at me… and then he…"

"It's okay now," Bobby reminded her, patting her hand to comfort the woman. "You're safe here."

Missouri looked desperately up into Bobby's face. "You have to help him, Bobby. You have to find him before he really hurts someone."

"He already hurt someone," Dean said pointedly. "Someone he shouldn't have."

"Exactly," Missouri said urgently. "If he could do this to someone he knows, someone he trusts, than imagine what little hesitation he would have with a complete stranger."

Bobby and Dean shared a worried look.

"Find him," Missouri repeated forcefully. "Get him somewhere safe and then fix whatever the hell broke inside that boy… and do it fast."

* * *

Harry pulled his cell phone out of his jeans and looked at the caller ID. "It's Dean."

"Go ahead, I'll keep looking through these," John said, turning his attention back to their work on Samuel Colt's journals.

"Hey, Dean," Harry greeted, trying to sound like he was in a more optimistic mood than he was. "How's it going in Lawrence?"

"Missouri's going to be fine," Dean answered, his voice gruff. "Sam's in the wind, though, and the cops are trying to track down some mystery suspect that Missouri made up."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "So as long as Sam doesn't do any damage in public then he should be okay."

"Yeah but if he doesn't poke his head out of wherever he's hiding then Bobby and I are going to have a hell of a time tracking his ass down," Dean grumbled angrily into the phone. "You'll let me know if he calls you, right?"

"Of course."

"How's Dad taking it?" Dean asked.

Harry looked at John reading through his papers. "He's fine, Dean. You know how hunters are."

Dean snorted in amusement. "He probably doesn't even look worried, does he?"

"You got it," Harry replied vaguely so that John wouldn't be able to tell what they were saying about him. "Just be safe and bring Sam home."

"Your wish is my command," Dean said sarcastically before disconnecting. Harry closed his own phone and moved back to the living area that had become John and Harry's work space.

John glanced at him. "They find Sam?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet but they will."

"Missouri recovering okay?"

"Good enough to give the police a false description of Sam," Harry replied, earning a smirk from John. "You find anything interesting?"

John shrugged. "Depends on what you consider interesting. The more I read on spell theory the less I seem to understand."

"I guess that's why it takes seven years of magical boarding schooling," Harry joked. "I was reading something interesting before Dean called. Where is that thing?"

Harry scanned the table until he found the particular journal he'd been meaning to show John. He supposed that now was as good a time as any since John seemed determined to be distracted from the days' events.

"Check this out," Harry said, putting the journal down on the coffee table so that John could read the actual text. "Samuel Colt encountered both Azazel and Lilith before."

John straightened up in attention. "How do you know?"

"He never knew their names but he describes them both several times, including accounts from survivors of demonic attacks," Harry replied pointing out the pages from the hunter's journal. "Their clothing styles may have changed to accommodate the generations that have gone by but I don't think that Azazel and Lilith have changed hosts – ever."

"That doesn't make sense. Most of the research I've done on demons points to the fact they like to change forms whenever it suits them," John muttered as he tried to put the pieces together in his head. "They're like snakes that way, always changing their skin."

"Colt has a theory about that, too." Harry grabbed a second journal from Samuel Colt's later years. "He thought – and I have to agree – that there was something special about their hosts."

"Why? Because they're upper level demons?"

Harry nodded. "Apparently they burn through regular human hosts fairly quickly. The older the demon the more powerfully they are. I guess that makes some sort of sick sense."

"So what's so special about their hosts?" John questioned aloud. "One's a plain looking white guy in his 50's and the other is a little blonde girl. Why choose them?"

"Because they're not from here."

John's head snapped up so that he could look Harry in the eye. "What do you mean they aren't from here?"

"Not from your world," Harry replied, nodding his head to convey that he was thinking the same thing that John was. "Samuel Colt thought they were from the same universe that he and I are from; that they were magical."

"I thought you said only criminals got shipped off world," John remembered. "And even then they had to choose what world they went to, right? So what are the chances they all asked for _this_ shit hole?"

Harry chuckled at John's word choice. "That's all true. I assume that Lilith's host was probably a descendent of a witch or wizard that had been executed using the Veil. Maybe Azazel's host was as well. All it takes is one executed witch or wizard wishing for a world without a magical community – not an unlikely choice seeing as that community executed them – and we could have dozens of their descendents walking around waiting to be possessed."

"But each new generation probably has a little less magic, right?" John guessed. He put the journal back down on the coffee table. "All of this theory points to that fact, right?"

"I think so," Harry agreed. "If our magic is tied to my birth world then it makes sense that any magic passed down to a younger generation would be lessened."

John shook his head in wonder. "So Lilith and Azazel keep their old meat suits because any new ones would burn out too quickly. Does it say anything about giving them any extra abilities?"

"Not extra," Harry corrected him, "but it does give them a bit of an edge over some of the other demons. Most possessed bodies can sustain massive damage without forcing the host out of their bodies, but a wizard's body heals quickly anyways thanks to their magical core."

"That's why Azazel's wearing the same skin suit even though you crushed it at Bobby's place a few months back," John added, sounding as if he had finally gotten a question answered that had been plaguing him. "So they heal a bit faster. Anything else?"

"I can't confirm this – and, so far, Colt doesn't mention it – but I think that when their demonic abilities combine with a magical core it interferes with other wizard's magic," Harry theorized. "So far I've met dozens of demons but only two of them have ever given me any trouble."

"Lilith and Azazel?" John guessed.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Both times I haven't been able to apparate around them. It's like my magic goes haywire whenever I do something big. Smaller things like banishing charms and conjuring flames have been fine… I don't know, maybe I'm just over thinking it or something."

"I don't think so. I think you might be on to something." John nodded at the research materials spread out before them. "We've only been studying Colt's work for a day, Harry, and look at all we've figured out. This is just the beginning."

"Look at you being an optimist," Harry teased, throwing John a smile. "Never thought I'd see the day you were excited to look at spell work."

John frowned. "Not much else to do around here besides wait, shit and read."

Harry tossed the hunter an unread journal. "In that case get reading because I don't really want to be here while you do the other two."

"You do realize what this means, don't you?" John asked, temporarily ignoring the journal Harry gave him.

Harry avoided John's gaze. "No. What?"

"Don't avoid it, Harry," John rebuked him sternly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"You think this information is why Azazel kidnapped me," Harry admitted looking just over John's shoulder.

"More importantly you think so, too."

Harry nodded. "I suspected as much. When he was torturing me he kept talking about it as if they were tests of some kind. It was like he was trying to see how durable my body was."

"And your magical strength," John added. "After all these decades with the same host bodies they must have thought they'd never see an original wizard again… especially one with your magical capabilities."

Harry smiled weakly. "It's always nice to be appreciated."

"You have to be careful," John warned him needlessly. "Before it was just Azazel that knew about you. Now that he's failed to keep you a secret from Lilith, they'll both be after you."

"You sound concerned, John," Harry mused with a grateful smile. "I didn't know you cared."

Harry could have sworn he saw John Winchester blush. John shrugged. "You mean a lot to Dean. He'd be upset if something happened to you… as would Sam."

"Just Dean and Sam?"

"I guess Bobby would be miffed, too."

Harry scoffed. "You sure know how to make a guy feel loved, John."

John sighed before giving in. "Alright, alright, I'll admit it…"

Harry leaned in, eager to hear the man admit that he might actually give a damn about him. It wasn't every day that John Winchester broke his wall of emotional distance – especially not when it came to sharing those feelings with someone outside of his family.

"…I didn't want to say it because it might be awkward," John continued, a grin stretching across his face as he dragged the moment out. "But I'd be upset if Azazel or Lilith possessed you. You know, because it'd be harder to kill them with all your powers under their belt."

Harry resisted the urge to punch the man… barely.

* * *

As it turned out, Harry's prediction about finding Sam was pretty accurate – just not in the way he thought. It took a few hours for Bobby to find the report but eventually he discovered that Sam had been arrested. At first the police officers that arrested him thought they were dealing with a case of a drunk and disorderly citizen… that is until they heard Sam's insane mumblings.

The only positive outcome of the police arresting Sam was that it made it easier for Bobby to track him down. After calling in a few favors from some friendly police contacts, Bobby had gotten the full story.

"Uh huh, thanks, Frank," Bobby said before snapping his cell phone closed. Bobby set the phone down on the small coffee table provided by the motel.

"You find him?" Dean asked from his bed.

Bobby nodded and turned to face the younger hunter. "The police nabbed him a few hours ago."

"Where'd they find him?"

Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable as he began to shift position.

"Bobby," Dean practically growled. "Just tell me."

"In a back alley with some hooker. Okay?" Bobby snapped. "You happy to hear it now?"

"Sammy?" Dean scoffed. "Sammy and a hooker? You serious?"

"That's what the police report said," Bobby answered in defense. "It's not like you to judge the use of a pro."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well that's different."

"Yeah? How?"

"Because me and a hooker is one thing," Dean shrugged as if the idea didn't matter. "But Sammy and a hooker? That kid didn't even try for a first kiss until he was almost out of high school. He wouldn't look twice at a hooker."

"Well maybe Sam wasn't being himself," Bobby mumbled cryptically.

Dean narrowed his eyes into beady slits. "What is that supposed to mean, Bobby? What else about Sammy's arrest aren't you telling me?"

"It's what he and the hooker were doing."

"Which was what?"

Bobby ran a hand through his hair and glared at the ceiling. "He was biting the girl, Dean. He was licking up her blood."

Dean's jaw dropped. "Blood play? Sammy was doing _that_?"

"And he was jabbering like a hyena about blood and fire," Bobby continued, ignoring Dean's reaction. "As in end of the world jabbering."

"Just like Missouri said, Bobby," Dean reminded him. "She said there was something off about him lately – possibly even possessed. At least it can't get any worse, right?"

"Actually… that's not all," Bobby warned him. "They've got him in a private cell at the police station. Apparently he was scaring the other prisoners with all of his apocalypse talk."

Dean shook his head slowly. "In other words he's really crazy."

"They're transferring him to a psych ward," Bobby informed him. "Tonight."

"A psych ward?" Dean swore and kicked the chair closest to his bed. A small dent appeared in the wall where the chair connected. "Jesus, Bobby, what happened to him?"

Bobby shook his head in bewilderment. "We can't focus on that right now, Dean. This info is only good for so long and we've got to prepare if we're going to bust him out."

"How'd you find all of this out anyway?" Dean asked.

Bobby shrugged. "You hunt long enough and you end up making friends with some cops along the way. How do you think I score those authentic looking badges for you and Sam?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Those badges are real?"

"Duh," Bobby replied sarcastically. "And we're going to need them to get Sam out of police custody."

"So you want to bust him out of lock up?"

Bobby nodded. "We go in flashing our Fed badges and some fake transfer papers and with any luck they'll just hand him over."

"You really think it'll be that simple?" Dean asked skeptically.

"If not we can always wait for him at the psych ward and try it again there. The head shrinkers probably won't be as sly as the cops."

Dean rubbed at his eyes. "You realize this is how we'd be talking on a hunt, right? We're making plans for a snatch and grab from the police who are too ignorant to know what they've got. Hell, we even have the Paddy Wagon for transport."

"Except this time we're hunting Sam." Bobby sighed. "We have to get him back first, Dean, then we'll focus on setting everything else right again. Harry will be able to help him. That boy loves Sam almost as much as you do."

Dean had done a lot of things in his life that people – normal people – would never think possible. He'd always found that he adjusted rather well to the unbelievable and the bizarre. After all that was what the best hunters had to be able to do in order to stay alive.

Of all things Dean could have imagined himself going up against he never honestly thought that his brother would be one of them. Sam was his little brother. Dean had spent more time raising Sam than even their father. Sam was the smart one, the nice one, the one with a real shot at making in the world…

"How'd it come to this, Bobby?" Dean asked aloud, his mental frustration obvious in his voice. "What happened when we weren't looking?"

Bobby sighed and put a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "You and I both know that whatever happened to Sam wasn't his fault or yours. How many hunts you been on when some innocent gets his whole life turned upside down? How many possessions you know where the innocent fights back hard enough to take control?"

"That's just it," Dean replied, pained. "How many of those do you know where the innocent came out the other side alive? Hell, how many do you know who kept their sanity at the end of it?"

Both Bobby and Dean fell into a depressed silence. Bobby was consumed of memories of Sam as an innocent teen who was eager to break free of the hunting lifestyle. Dean could only think of the future and his determination to get his brother back.

Dean angrily pushed himself off the bed and snatched his cell phone off the top of the dresser.

"Where are you going?" Bobby called as Dean stalked towards the motel room door.

"To let Harry know to get the panic room ready," Dean yelled over his shoulder. "Sam's going to need a place to stay until he's healthy again."

Dean slammed the motel room door shut behind him.

* * *

"Any problems?" John asked as Harry reappeared in the middle of the living room.

Harry shook his head. "No, I just used a little Wizard-mojo and the place practically picked itself up. Ever see that Disney movie Fantasia? It was like that."

John might have chuckled at the mental thought of Harry standing in the middle of the panic room as mops and dust pains danced around him. Understandably the reason Harry was clearing it out had sobered the image in his mind. After all there was nothing humorous to John Winchester about the idea of locking up his youngest son in a prison designed for demons.

Harry sensed John's mood and decided to refocus the man's thoughts back on their Samuel Colt research. "Did you find anything about the Colt?"

"Not yet," John replied as he shook his head clear of any lingering thoughts about Dean and Bobby and their plans to kidnap Sam. "But I did find something on memory spells."

Harry's head snapped around to focus on John. "As in the spells that Sirius could have used on you?"

John nodded. "Colt has a theory on how they work here…"

"When doesn't that man have a theory he doesn't want to write down?" Harry snorted, having sorted through decades worth of journals each one dedicated to magical theory. It was worse than being back in transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. "What's he say?"

John pointed at the text he'd been reading while Harry was at Bobby's cleaning up. "There aren't a lot of direct mentions of your Fidelius Charm besides what we already know about them. Mainly that the spell conceals a secret inside one individual, the Secret Keeper, and the only way to get to that secret is by having the information shared directly by said individual."

Harry bobbed his head before picking up the topic. "And if the Secret Keeper should die than anyone they had previously told the secret to would become full-fledged Secret Keepers themselves."

"Here's something we didn't know," John interrupted. "The Fidelius Charm has a weak spot: it's strength is diminished as the number of people who know the secret increases. Good thing we only shared the secret with Dean so far."

Harry frowned. "Stop trying to make up excuses to keep Sam out of the loop."

"I'm not," John snapped, irritated by the reminder of what had been happening to Sam.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Harry continued as if John hadn't said anything. "When my old Headmaster performed the spell he told the secret to the entire Order of the Phoenix and it didn't compromise the spell."

"What's a Phoenix Order?" John asked, confused.

Harry sighed. "It's a secret society back in my world. I guess you might even call them a kind of hunter."

"Witches that hunt?" John laughed loudly at the idea. "Imagine that. What'd they hunt? Rabbit's that needed their feet cut off?"

"Actually they hunted Dark Wizards," Harry shot back, enjoying the way the answer shut John up. "Waged a war against them and everything. Even won it."

John rolled his eyes. "Regardless, the Fidelius Charm has a second weakness."

"Do tell."

"Apparently if there's only one Secret Keeper who has never revealed the secret then it creates a probably when they die," John explained, pointing out the pertinent passage in Colt's journal. "The spell continues to work, sealing off whatever or whoever was being protected for the rest of eternity."

Harry smiled. "That's why I'm so sure that Sirius made sure that you had the ability to tell someone the secret. We just have to figure out how."

"Still seems like a long shot to me," John grumbled testily. "What's the point in having a Secret Keeper who can't remember they have a secret worth telling and then give them a way of remembering? If you want to be safe forever why not just wait for the Secret Keeper to drop dead?"

"Because I have to believe Sirius would have an escape plan," Harry answered quietly. "That maybe he hoped I'd show up one day or one of the other Order members. I have to believe that's true."

"I'm sorry, Harry," John replied, equally quiet. "But that's still a long shot."

Harry smirked at John. "If it were you, wouldn't you have hope that your boys would find you? Could you let yourself eliminate that possibility?"

John shook his head and returned Harry's smirk. "No. I guess not."

"See?" Harry asked as he pointed at John and himself. "We're not so different after all."

John chose to ignore the comparison. "So if there's a key to unlocking my memories it would have to be something specific, right? Something I wouldn't normally do so that I didn't accidently remember the truth about Black?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "I read somewhere in Colt's journals that most spells can be triggered by a 'state of being'. You know, either an emotional state or a physical location?"

"You mean like I'd have to be standing somewhere important to the spell to have it activate?" John asked.

"It's why most rituals involve specific hand movements," Harry explained. "It's the custom of the ritual so that certain elements are invoked. I suppose it's the same with magic as it is with spirituality."

"There could be a million places Black could have tied the place to," John said dismissively. "I doubt he'd leave it so open to chance like that."

"But erasing your memories of the truth wasn't the only thing Sirius did to you, though," Harry reminded him, a pensive look on his face. "He put false memories there, too."

"Of him working with old Yellow-Eyes," John confirmed, his tone growing colder with each word. "And of me shooting him when he was in his dog form."

Harry watched John's demeanor carefully. "When you remember those moments what do you feel?"

"You trying to be my psychiatrist?" John asked sarcastically.

"It's important, John," Harry replied, trying to bring John back on task. "What do you feel when you remember those last days with Sirius?"

"Anger," John answered immediately. "And a lot of… of betrayal."

Harry smiled in triumph. "What if Sirius tied those memories to a sense of betrayal, then? Maybe there's a reason he created those memories in particular? After all those are the two biggest betrayals I could think to make up."

John nodded. "What for, though?"

"Well for one you'd think he was dead," Harry replied, ticking each topic off on his fingers. "Two, you'd definitely never trust another Witch or Wizard who came through the Veil so Sirius could be safe from any criminals. Three, your magically implanted memories might be strengthened by those emotions."

John squinted as he tried to process Harry's suggestion. "So how do I get rid of them?"

"What's the opposite of betrayal, John?" Harry asked with a smile.

John's entire face dropped. "Trust."

Harry's smile stretched wide across his face as the Wizard eagerly leaned closer towards John. "So do you trust me, John?"

John immediately shook his head. "Hell, no."

"I think that's exactly what Sirius knew would safeguard his secret," Harry declared triumphantly. "If there's one thing that John Winchester would never give up, it's his trust to someone outside of his family. And if there's one person Sirius knew could get it, it's me."

"You're delusional, you know that?" John asked with wide, incredulous eyes. "You think it's as simple as us doing a few trust exercises and BAM I'll suddenly remember?"

"I'm not _that_ delusional, John," Harry replied with a serious face. "But I think once you demonstrate enough tangible trust in me that the memory spell will weaken."

"And how do I do that?" John demanded.

Harry got up and went to the kitchen. John's eyes tracked the Wizard as he brought back some of John's favorite scotch and two glasses. Harry poured them both a generous amount and handed John his own glass.

"What's this for?" John asked as he swirled the alcohol out of habit.

"It's to help you loosen up and trust me," Harry replied as he sipped from his own glass. He grimaced slightly at the taste. "Especially since I know the best place to start."

John eyed him warily. "And where might that be?"

Harry looked him straight back in the eye. "With why you don't want Sam to know the truth about your existence."

John swore and leapt off the sofa. Harry leaned back and watched as the hunter paced around the room with an angry expression and a mouth full of curses that would make a sailor blush.

"This is all just a trick to get me to spill all my little secrets, isn't it?" John accused him from the bedroom, his words jumbled together in the yell.

Harry rolled his eyes even though John couldn't see him from the next room. "This is about making real progress into recovering your memories and finding Sirius. If you aren't determined to do that anymore than why am I even here? Why did Dean and I risk our lives at Armsmear to bring back this info?"

John reappeared at the threshold between the two rooms. "Can't we start somewhere less personal?"

Harry shook his head. "We don't have the time to pussy foot around anymore, John. Your son is coming home soon and he's going to need you there for support. Don't you want to be able to leave here safely and be there for him?"

John closed his eyes and simply breathed deeply for a few minutes. Finally – after Harry was sure he had given up completely – John marched back to the sofa like a blind folded prisoner being walked to his execution. The hunter sat as far away on the sofa from Harry as he could get.

With one last brave intake of breath John scooped up his glass of scotch and downed his entire drink. It hurt Harry's throat to watch him do it, but he knew better then to interrupt while John pooled his courage to finally reveal the truth.

"There was a time when I didn't care about anything but finding the thing that killed Mary and returning the favor," John began his story, his eyes unfocused as he recalled past memories. "Years went by before I even thought to ask _why_ it chose Sam or _why_ it killed my wife."

When John remained silent Harry decided to push a little to get him talking again. "Did you find out why Azazel did it? Why he went after your family in particular?"

John nodded slowly. "There were other families who had suffered similar fates. Oddly enough it was your godfather who helped me with the research. After some time we realized what the connection was between all of the families."

"The kids," Harry guessed. John looked at Harry suspiciously. "You said 'families' so I assumed they all had kids…"

"They did and each of them were attacked exactly six months after the youngest was born," John confirmed for Harry. "It was the same pattern again and again. Always the mother walking into the nursery and being set on fire. Other families weren't as lucky as we were; sometimes only the youngest child survived."

"So there is something connecting Sam to Azazel. That's why you didn't want him to know about you," Harry accused John. "You didn't trust him."

"He's my son," John snapped defensively. "Of course I trust him. He's just… he's special in a way that I can't understand."

"What do you mean special?"

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know if that demon did something to the kids or if they were unique before he entered their lives, but all of these kids have something in common: they all have superhuman abilities."

"Like superpowers?" Harry asked, his eyes wide. Somehow he couldn't see Sam putting on tights and a cape to go fight crime.

John shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking of them. The other kids developed psychic abilities but nothing positive. Each one turns out to be more warped than the last. Most of them end up using their powers to do horrible things – inhuman things."

"Sam's never been like that," Harry felt the need to defend his friend. "I lived with him for three years and I never saw signs of him having any abilities. He even swerves away from squirrels when he's driving. Sam's a good person."

John rolled his eyes. "I know that. It's why I worry more about him than Dean. Sam was always a sweet kid. Even when I was moving him to a new town every month he still managed to make friends and become the teachers pet."

"That didn't change during college," Harry said with a grin. "I swear there wasn't a professor on campus that Sam couldn't charm."

John smiled back at him. "Exactly why I feared what would happen if he ever discovered his abilities. I pray every day that they never develop, that he never learns about the others like him."

Harry frowned as something began to nag at the back of his mind. "You said that the kids Azazel visited all developed psychic powers?"

"Yeah," John confirmed, frowning at the question. "Why?"

"What kind of abilities?"

"One girl could project images into her foster parents minds," John recalled. "Poor mother was so desperate to get them out of her head that she took a screw driver to her temple to let them out."

Harry cringed at the image. "What else could they do?"

"There was a college jock who could predict what moves his opponents were going to make. It didn't seem so bad until he used the foresight to break the spine of one of the other players," John continued his list. "Kid never walked again. He can't even pee on his own."

"Nothing non-mental, though?" Harry pressed.

"What is this about?" John questioned back. "What are you thinking?"

Harry gave him a worried look. "Missouri said that Sam had been having nightmares. But not just any nightmares, she claimed that they sometimes had a physical crossover. She even mentioned some odd bruising on his body that they had no explanation for."

"You think his abilities are developing?" John asked anxiously. "You think he can do something with people's nightmares?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think he's the one pulling a Freddy Krueger."

"You need to explain this to me now," John demanded angrily. "I can't figure out what you're talking about half the time."

"When I was in my world something traumatic happened to me when I was a baby. My family was attacked by an evil man like Azazel, too," Harry revealed, deciding that if John could confide his secret to Harry than the wizard could return the favor. "Only my attacker was another Wizard. Much like the other kids that Azazel visited, I developed some unusual abilities."

John snorted. "_That's_ how you became a Wizard?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I was born that way. I had developed a few talents that were considered unique even among my people. It wasn't until I was older than I found out that I shared these abilities with my attacker. In fact, he was the one that gave them to me."

John frowned. "You think Azazel is giving these kids their abilities."

"The story's not over yet." Harry held up a hand to ask John for silence. "When I was older it was discovered that I shared a special link with the man who attacked my family. It was through this link that I received those unique abilities."

John looked like he was about to interrupt but a sharp look from Harry kept him quiet. Harry smirked before he continued his story. "When I was fifteen I started having these dreams – one might even call them visions – about what my attacker was doing. It eventually came out that what I was dreaming was actually happening, that the link between us had given us access to the others mind."

"You think Azazel and the kids he visited share this same psychic link," John realized, jumping to the conclusion of Harry's story.

Harry nodded. "If Sam's having nightmares it could be possible that Azazel is using their connection to torment him."

"But why?" John asked. "Why go after Sam like that?"

"To find you," Harry answered honestly. "Azazel probably figures that if you were alive then Sam would know about it. I guess it was a good idea that we kept Sam in the dark after all."

John shook his head. "Except that now Dean is down there trying to find Sam and keep him contained. If Dean lets the secret slip and Azazel finds it in his mind…"

"All hell would break loose," Harry concluded for John. He stood up quickly and reached for his cell phone. "We need to call Dean and warn him to keep his mouth shut, just in case."

John nodded in agreement. "Hurry."

Harry brought up his contact list on the cell phone and pressed Dean's number. The phone connected but Dean's voicemail came on immediately. Harry grunted in disappointment.

"Straight to voicemail means that it's been turned off," Harry reported to John before snapping his phone shut. A second later and he flipped it back open and began searching under the B's. "I'm calling Bobby now."

"Harry," John interrupted. "It's too late. They've already gone in to get Sam. They won't have their cell phones on until they have him and they're sure they've gotten away clean."

Harry nodded as he heard Bobby's voicemail come on. "What do we do?"

"If you zap down there and interfere you could blow their cover. That would make getting Sam back even more difficult," John predicted. "We have to wait and hope everything goes okay."

"Waiting sucks," Harry muttered, shaking his head dejectedly.

John smirked morosely. "Now you know how I feel."

* * *

Being in a mental asylum was seriously creeping Dean out.

It was too bad that their gambit at the police station hadn't worked out. The desk sergeant was much too smart to be stuck as the precinct secretary. The man had taken one look at Dean and Bobby and immediately began drilling them on their story. They'd decided not to press their luck, made their excuses, and then got the hell out of there as inconspicuously as they could.

Thus their need to go to Plan B and trying their hand at fooling the underpaid staff at the asylum the police had shipped Sam off to for mental care.

Even this late at night the really fucked up patients still screamed from their padded cells. Based on the way most of the patients were allowed to simply wander around their respective wards Dean was starting to question if he had really needed to disguise himself as an orderly.

_Not that the outfit doesn't make me look hot_, Dean thought to himself cockily as he glanced down at his entirely white outfit. If only he were in blue scrubs he could pretend he was a cast member on _Dr. Sexy, M.D._

Dean rounded the corner at the end of the hall and started looking at the room numbers. According to the short blonde he'd flirted the information out of, Sam was placed in one of the isolation wards at the back of the asylum. Fortunately that meant Dean wouldn't have to deal with many guards or other mental patients since they all expected Sam to be locked away tightly.

Finally Dean found the right room. Before he approached the small window in the cell door, Dean took a breath and tried to mentally prepare himself for the encounter. From what Missouri had said Sam was in pretty rough shape. The police report Bobby had gotten on Sam's arrest hadn't made his brother sound any better either.

Dean peeked in and was pleasantly surprised to see that his younger brother was asleep on the twin bed provided by the mental hospital. The girl at the front desk had told him how they'd needed to keep Sam medicated but he didn't think he'd be _this_ docile. Usually someone who had something supernatural happen to them tended to be a little more resistant to human methods of control.

Dean checked the hallways around him once more for any roaming guards before deciding to make his move. The lock on the outside was relatively easy to pick. Soon enough Dean was sliding the security bolt out of its holder and swinging the heavy metal door open.

"Sammy?" Dean asked quietly as he walked into the cell, leaving the door ajar just enough so that he wouldn't accidentally lock himself in. It should be closed enough that any passing guard wouldn't notice it sticking it as badly as if he'd just left it wide open.

On the bed Sam stirred lightly and moaned in his sleep but otherwise gave no direct reaction to Dean's voice. Dean walked to the end of the bed where the doctor's kept charts on the patient so that nurses would know basic information like what allergies they had and what medicines they were taking.

Dean couldn't really make much of the medical speak on the forms. However, he knew enough to know that the amounts Sam was receiving of _whatever_ those drugs were seemed like pretty high dosages. Plus he discovered that it really was true that all doctors had terrible handwriting.

_No wonder so many people die in hospitals every year,_ Dean thought to himself. _No one can read what the doctors are prescribing…_

Sam's eyes opened slightly and a smile graced his lips. "Hey, Dean!"

Dean made a shushing noise and glanced at the door to make sure no one had heard Sam's loud greeting. "It's good to see you, too, Sam, but try to keep quiet about it."

"Aren't you hot in all those flames, Dean?" Sam asked, squinting as if the light were too bright. "You should probably turn those down. You looked cooked enough."

Dean's heart sank a little at Sam's ramblings. "I'm not on fire, Sam."

Sam sat up and hesitantly reached out towards Dean as if afraid to be burned by the imaginary flames. "But I can smell the flesh, Dean, and all of your hair. The hair always smells the worst."

"It's okay, Sam," Dean comforted him. He moved closer as Sam made room on the bed for him. Dean sat down and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "We're going to make you better."

"Everyone says that," Sam replied looking away from Dean. "All they want to do is burn me or touch me."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by 'touch' Sammy?"

"They burn my clothes and drink my blood." Sam smiled at the thought. "I don't mind the blood though."

Dean swallowed nervously. "The cops said you liked the… the blood. There was that prostitute – do you remember her, Sammy?"

Sam nodded and smiled wistfully at the memory. "She tasted salty, though. Dean. My blood tastes more like candy."

"And that's… good?" Dean guessed based on the pleased look on his brother's face.

Sam turned to look Dean in the eye. "I bet we taste the same, Dean. You know, since we're brothers."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that seriously creepy statement. It was his gut reaction to pull his hand back but Sam caught it with his vice-like grip. Dean struggled to move back but Sam pushed his white sleeve back and sank his teeth into Dean's arm.

Dean screamed as Sam's teeth began to grind his flesh, gnawing at his arm. Blood seeped from the wound and Sam's tongue eagerly lapped up the spilling fluids. To Dean it was the worst, most painful hickey in history.

Seeing no other choice Dean pulled his gun from his waistband and conked Sam over the head with it. Sam struggled to stay conscious a few moments more but eventually had no choice but to give in to the concussion.

Knowing he didn't have long before someone came by to investigate, Dean quickly tore a strip of Sam's bedding and wrapped it around the new wound. Immediately the makeshift bandage turned red as the blood soaked into the cotton.

With any luck the guards would assume Dean's pained scream was just another unruly patient having a bad trip on their meds. Dean wrapped one of Sam's arms around his shoulder and heaved the rest of the weight onto his back. Immediately Dean toppled over with Sam falling directly on top of him.

"Fat, crazy, asshole," Dean muttered darkly at Sam's limp body before dragging himself out from underneath his heavily muscled brother.

It took a few more tries before Dean found the right balance to carrying Sam's weight without it crushing him. It was a slow process but eventually Dean made it to the main lobby. He sighed in relief as he spotted the double set of glass doors leading to the main entrance of the building.

"Hey!" the perky blonde at the desk said. "What's going on?"

Dean dropped Sam's body onto the floor of the lobby and turned around. He had not lugged Sam from one end of that facility to the other only to have some night nurse ruin his clean getaway.

Dean pulled out his cell phone and sent Bobby a text to let him know they'd be needing to leave in a hurry.

But first he had a nosy nurse to take care of…

* * *

_5 Minutes Later…_

The wheels of the Paddy Wagon squealed as Bobby aimed the vehicle as close to the sidewalk as he could. Dean was grateful for every inch Bobby saved him from having to carry Sam's limp form. As handy as Sam's muscle had been in other hunts, having to carry all of that muscle now was a whole different story…

"What happened?" Bobby demanded as he burst out of the driver's side and raced around the front of the truck. "I thought you had it under control and then I get your 911 text."

"Help me with him first," Dean replied shortly, his voice strained. "Then you can yell at me for being a dumb ass."

Bobby complied, hooking one of Sam's arms around his shoulders. "Boy should go on a diet."

"Just load him in, Bobby," Dean said in no mood for jokes. "We won't have much more time before they notice he's gone."

Bobby opened the door to the back of the Paddy Wagon and helped Dean maneuver Sam inside. Dean closed the door and secured it while Bobby raced around and climbed into the front seat. Dean made his way to the passenger seat and got in.

"Go," he said simply.

Bobby hadn't needed any help making that decision. Already a few white-clad employees were moving about the psychiatric ward, some even coming out the front doors. Bobby drove steadily away from the building trying to put as much distance between it and them before someone called the police.

"So what happened?" Bobby asked as they entered the highway.

Dean sighed. "It was going fine. I went in there dressed as an orderly and chatted up the chick at the front desk, pretending that I was the new guy. She didn't even ask for my badge."

"And when you were done flirting?" Bobby pressed, moving into the far left lane to speed up. Luckily the roads were pretty clear at this time of night.

Dean rolled up his sleeve and showed it to Bobby. The older hunt winced at the oval wound in Dean's arm that was still bleeding.

"Those bite marks?" Bobby asked incredulously. Bobby changed the direction of his rearview mirror and refocused it on Sam. Even through the metal bars keeping Sam separated from them, Bobby could still see the red smudges around Sam's lips. "Crazy bastard."

Dean closed his eyes. "You have no idea."

"It was bad wasn't it?"

"They had to medicate him to keep him down," Dean answered, putting his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window. "Even with all the drugs he was still awake and rambling when I got there… I've never seen Sam like that."

Bobby let Dean sit in quiet for a moment before deciding to pick the conversation up again. "You sent the 911 text for a reason?"

Dean nodded numbly. "The girl I was flirting with saw the blood on my uniform. She started screaming so I knocked her out and stuffed her in a closet."

"Harsh," Bobby replied dryly. "Rent-a-cop's come running?"

Dean nodded. "Can we not talk about this right now? I'm going to have to go through it all again with Harry when we get back to your place. Think it can wait til then?"

"Of course, kid," Bobby responded, turning on the radio and letting them fall into a peaceful silence.

Bobby continued to drive while Dean steadily fell asleep. To be on the safe side, Bobby alternated between the highways and the back roads. If the police were putting up road blocks or sending out patrol cars then it would give them a better shot of avoiding those traps.

It was during one of his checks of the rearview mirror that Bobby saw Sam begin to stir behind them. One of his hands twitched indicating Sam's slow return to consciousness. It was all Bobby could do not to swerve of the road.

"Dean," Bobby muttered, shaking his passenger's shoulder. Dean rubbed his eyes groggily, wincing as the motion tugged at his wound.

"What is it, Bobby?" he asked grumpily.

Sam let out a hacking cough from the back of the truck. Bobby raised his eyebrow pointedly and tilted his head at Sam in answer to Dean's question.

One of Sam's eye blinked slowly open and took in his surrounding. Sam gave no visible reaction to being locked in the back of the truck until he spotted his brother looking back at him. "Dean?"

"Sam?" Dean asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around in his seat. "Sammy, is that you?"

Sam stared back at him with tired eyes. "Dean? Where am I?"

This was not the same Sam that he'd seen in the psychiatric ward. Dean didn't know if it was the drugs the head doctors had prescribed or if Sam had fought off whatever had possessed him but Sam was looking much better now.

"Pull over," Dean ordered Bobby. "He's lucid."

Bobby shook his head. "You know just as well as I do that he could just be faking it. The best thing to do is to just wait until we get back and we can secure him."

"He doesn't need to be secured," Dean shot back angrily. "Look at him, Bobby, he's fine. Just fucking look at him!"

Bobby glanced in the rearview mirror and sighed. "Dean… I don't know…"

"Please," Dean begged as he glanced back at Sam's crumpled form. "He might not be this aware again for awhile. He could tell us something about what's happening to him. Please, Bobby?"

Bobby exhaled noisily. "Ah, hell."

Dean smiled at the older hunter in gratitude. Despite the lack of cars on the highway at that time of night Bobby still signaled to show he was pulling over. The car shook slightly as it left the smooth surface of the highway and entered the dirt of the roadside.

"Be quick about it," Bobby ordered Dean as he unlocked the doors.

Dean nodded his agreement and quickly threw open his door. Sam shivered at the onslaught of cold air from the night rushing in from the open backdoor. Dean hopped in quickly and slammed the door behind him just in case Sam still wasn't himself. They couldn't risk him escaping and going on another spree of violence.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asked as he moved closer to his little brother. He put a hand on Sam's head to feel for a fever. "You're not looking so good."

"Better than you," Sam grumbled irritably.

Dean laughed. "I guess it is you. No one else would have such lame comebacks."

Sam smiled groggily. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"Headed back to my place, boy," Bobby answered from the protection of the front seat of the truck. "Harry's waiting to make you all better."

"What's wrong with me?" Sam asked, worry entering his voice. "Am I sick?"

Dean and Bobby shared an uneasy look through the rearview mirror.

"You were possessed by something," Dean decided on, throwing a quelling look at Bobby in case he had the bright idea to start speaking the truth. "It was a little rough getting it out of you, so you might not feel so good. You remember any of it?"

Sam shrugged and shook his head. "How long was it in me?"

"A few days, nothing more."

"I didn't hurt anybody did I?" Sam asked his eyes flaring in panic. "Missouri, Dean. I didn't hurt her, right? That was just a dream?"

"You have a lot of bad dreams, son?" Bobby asked quietly, ignoring Sam's questions about Missouri.

"I guess. I don't know," Sam admitted. "Everything's sort of jumbled in my head. It's like walking through a mirror maze of all funhouse mirrors; everything is warped and distorted."

Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder to comfort him. "It's gonna be okay, Sam. We'll fix it."

"You still didn't tell me," Sam accused them both. "What happened with Missouri? You said I was possessed for a few days. I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

Dean shared another concerned look with Bobby. This time Sam saw the silent exchange between the two hunters and realized what it meant. Sam let out a pained moan.

"What did I do?" Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion and guilt. "Dean you have to tell me or I'm going to drive myself crazy thinking about it. Please, Dean?"

"It wasn't your fault, Sam," Dean replied, his own voice wavering. "You weren't in control. It wasn't you."

A tear leaked from Sam's eye. "It's all my fault, Dean. Everything is my fault."

"Don't say that," Dean said sternly, forcing Sam's chin up so that he could look him in the eye. "You've never done anything to anyone."

"Don't you get it, Dean?" Sam asked. "That's exactly the problem: I haven't done anything. All I do is get the people close to me hurt. If I hadn't met Jess she would still be alive. Dad died and I didn't even try to help him… I didn't do anything to get him back."

Guilt twisted in Dean's gut at the mention of John. Finally Dean felt the horrifying sensation of keeping the secret of John Winchester's existence from the ones that he loved. He'd given Harry such a hard time about it but he didn't know how much torture it must have been for the wizard to watch Dean grieve and remain silent.

Now that Dean was in Harry's shoes he didn't think he could make the same choice. Especially not when Sam was in such bad shape emotionally. If he could just make Sam see that not all was lost, that John wasn't really gone…

"Listen to me, Sam," Dean whispered, moving closer to his brother. "There's something you have to know about Dad."

Sam nodded. "I already know it's my fault, Dean."

Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Stop saying that, Sam. It's not true… none of it is. Nothing about Dad's death is what you think."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked as he looked his brother in the eye. "You don't have to make something up to make me feel better."

"I'm not," Dean replied.

Bobby cleared his throat and gave Dean a disbelieving look.

"I'm not," Dean repeated, this time to Bobby's reflection. "Listen, before Dad died… Harry, he tried to… I don't really know how to say this. According to Harry I might not even be able _to_ say it…"

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. "What does Harry have to do with Dad's death?"

"That's just it, Sam. Dad isn't – he's not –"

In the rearview mirror Bobby's eyes went wide. "Boy, are you telling me that your Daddy ain't dead?"

Dean looked Sam in the eye and nodded once.

"You're sure?" Sam asked in amazement. "Dad's alive?"

Dean smiled and nodded again. He even gave Sam's shoulder a little slap of encouragement. "I told you not all was lost, Sammy boy."

Sam smiled back. "Thanks for telling me the truth, Dean."

Dean was about to say something derogatory before the moment got even more emotional but was interrupted by Sam's fist connecting with his face. Dean spat blood as the power behind the hit forced his teeth to cut open the inside of his cheek.

"Dean!" Bobby shouted, already undoing his seatbelt to help the hunter.

Sam crawled on top of Dean and wrapped his hands around his brother's throat. Dean's lungs burned as they searched for air but were left wanting. His only course of action was to stare up at Sam's hard eyes as his own brother murdered him.

Just as little black dots began to appear in his line of sight, Sam bent down to whisper in Dean's ear. "Tell your mother that Azazel says hello."

The back car door opened and the pressure on Dean's neck was alleviated momentarily as Sam turned to fend off Bobby. Dean gasped for air, sucking in as much as his lungs would allow and then some.

"Get off of him!" Bobby demanded.

Sam grinned back at the hunter. "Or what?"

Bobby cocked the handgun he'd pulled from his glove box. "If I already lost one son, I ain't letting you take the other."

"How sweet," Sam complimented falsely before turning back and placing his hand around Dean's throat. "I don't think you'd do it, though, Singer."

"Say goodbye, Dean," Sam said as he began to squeeze hard enough to break his windpipe.

Bobby lifted the gun and aimed it at Sam's back. Dean locked eyes with Bobby and tried to shake his head. Even if Sam was possessed or crazy, Dean didn't want him to die… especially not at Bobby's hand. Even if it meant Dean had to give up his own life to keep it from happening.

Unfortunately for the Winchester siblings it wasn't up to Dean. Bobby fired once and Sam's limp body collapsed onto Dean.

As Dean once again struggled for breath, he felt a new sensation overwhelm him: horror. Dean could feel the warmth of Sam's warm blood as it came gushing out of him and onto Dean. With Sam's limp weight still crushing him, Dean couldn't see outside of the car but he could hear the sound of Bobby's muffled crying.

And Dean's tears weren't far behind.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Can you imagine having read that on Christmas? I think the blizzard was Mother Nature stepping in to make sure that everyone had a happy holiday instead of being depressed by the untimely demise of one of the most beloved characters in this fandom.

If I did my job then this ending should have surprised many of you. I'm not going to say whether or not Sam's dead, dying or alive (or none of the above) and that's not an easy thing for me to do. I'm a blabbermouth by nature (seriously, ask any of my friends) but I'm going to resist my natural urges and keep the truth to myself until the next chapter. I know I'm going to get some angry/shocked reviews – hopefully no flames over this – but I would ask that everyone read the next chapter before bitching me out for "killing" Sam Winchester. Who knows? He may yet live, you'll just have to read to find out…

And just to sweeten the deal, next chapter we'll see some Sirius action ;)

I hope that you can (eventually) forgive sweet Sammy for beating up on poor Missouri. I know I felt bad for her while I was writing it but she should have known better than to let some supernatural crap happen to Sam Winchester. I mean honestly – after watching the show for how many seasons now – how do the people in Sam's life not justify locking him up every time he does something even the slightest bit suspicious. And I don't just mean big stuff like sleeping with a demon, I'm saying that all he has to do is order his meal in an unusual way and I'd be locking his fine ass up faster than you can say "overreaction".

Oh, wait, I just got the mental image of tying up Jared Padalecki… yep, now I'm having my wicked way with him. I think we need to cut this A/N short because I suddenly have a to go watch some shirtless Jared episodes ;)

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a **REVIEW!**


	9. It's A Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad World

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all of the reviews! I rushed to post this a bit early so there will definitely be spelling/grammar errors. Try not to be annoyed by them.

Among other popular review topics: SIRIUS! Yes, it's true, there is a cameo from Sirius in here but he's not back completely. All in good time, my friends, all in good time. I can't promise much but I can promise that we're getting closer and closer to a reunion – I just hope none of you follows through on your threats of bodily harm before then. Feel free to beat me up when the story's over LOL.

This chapter is shorter than the previous one but that's only because it was so massive. At 9,000 words it's still a more than decent sized chapter, though, so no worries on that front. There's going to be a slight time jump somewhere in the middle of the chapter but it's a short jump and we're not missing anything really important. You'll see why when you read the chapter…

As always, don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter :)

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 8:  
**"**It's a Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad World"**

"I need your magic touch, don't you know,  
I'm after you and now I can't let go.  
Feel the fire burning slow,  
I got a habit and I'm back for more.  
You magic touch, don't you know,  
I'm after you and now I can't let go.  
Feel the fire burning slow,  
You better get it while it's hot now, babe,  
Because I can't, can't, can't let you go…"

- Aerosmith, _The Magic Touch_

_THEN…_

_Sam crawled on top of Dean and wrapped his hands around his brother's throat. Dean's lungs burned as they searched for air but were left wanting. His only course of action was to stare up at Sam's hard eyes as his own brother murdered him._

_Just as little black dots began to appear in his line of sight, Sam bent down to whisper in Dean's ear. "Tell your mother that Azazel says hello."_

_The back car door opened and the pressure on Dean's neck was alleviated momentarily as Sam turned to fend off Bobby. Dean gasped for air, sucking in as much as his lungs would allow and then some._

"_Get off of him!" Bobby demanded._

_Sam grinned back at the hunter. "Or what?"_

_Bobby cocked the handgun he'd pulled from his glove box. "If I already lost one son, I ain't letting you take the other."_

"_How sweet," Sam complimented falsely before turning back and placing his hand around Dean's throat. "I don't think you'd do it, though, Singer."_

"_Say goodbye, Dean," Sam said as he began to squeeze hard enough to break his windpipe._

_Bobby lifted the gun and aimed it at Sam's back. Dean locked eyes with Bobby and tried to shake his head. Even if Sam was possessed or crazy, Dean didn't want him to die… especially not at Bobby's hand. Even if it meant Dean had to give up his own life to keep it from happening._

_Unfortunately for the Winchester siblings it wasn't up to Dean. Bobby fired once and Sam's limp body collapsed onto Dean. _

_As Dean once again struggled for breath, he felt a new sensation overwhelm him: horror. Dean could feel the warmth of Sam's warm blood as it came gushing out of him and onto Dean. With Sam's limp weight still crushing him, Dean couldn't see outside of the car but he could hear the sound of Bobby's muffled crying._

_And Dean's tears weren't far behind._

* * *

_NOW…_

"Something's wrong," Harry explained to John as he rushed into the living room and gathered his things. "Dean's a mess."

John stood before he realized he couldn't accompany Harry. "What happened?"

"No idea," Harry replied honestly. Dean's voice was so garbled that he could barely make out that he was asking for Harry's help.

John shifted nervously as he followed Harry to the front door. "How will you find them? They could be anywhere between Lawrence and Bobby's place."

Harry smirked at the hunter. "That's why I always put a tracking spell on Dean whenever he goes on a hunting trip."

"You do that often?" John asked as Harry prepared to apparate.

"Just a few years now," Harry replied with a wink. "It's saved his ass enough times that he's stopped complaining."

And with that Harry magically transported himself to where Dean's tracking spell was emanating from. Once more Harry was pleased to have continued to keep the spell on Dean's favorite jacket. Too many times Harry had needed to find Dean and been unable to simply apparate to him for fear of being splinched. Thankfully that wasn't an issue this time.

It took the Wizard a moment before he realized that Bobby had driven the Paddy Wagon into the woods so that no cars from the highway could spot them. Harry jogged the short distance from the road until he could make out the twin glows of the taillights.

"Dean?" Harry called out into the night. "Bobby?"

There was a snapping sound as shoes crushed the underbrush of the woods as someone's footsteps raced at him. Soon enough Dean appeared on his right looking pale and frightened.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw Dean's blood drenched shirt. He rushed forward and immediately began lifting up the bottom of Dean's shirt, looking for a wound that could cause so much damage.

"It's not me." Dean brushed Harry's hands away roughly. "It's Sam's blood."

"Take me to him," Harry demanded. Dean wasted little time as he led Harry further into the brush. "What happened, Dean?"

Dean closed his eyes in grief. "That yellow-eyed asshole was controlling Sam. He made me think it was Sammy and then he attacked me."

"Are you saying he was possessed by Azazel?" Harry tried to clarify, wondering how that would tie in with Colt's theories on demonic possession.

Dean shook his head. "It wasn't like a usual possession. There wasn't any smoke after Bobby shot him – "

Harry paused in his stride, surprised by Dean's admission. "_Bobby_ shot Sam?"

"It was an accident," Dean defended the hunter's actions. "There wasn't any other choice in his mind. It was either that or – or let Sammy kill me."

Harry took Dean's hand and squeezed. He kept hold of it as they neared Bobby's van. "Where's Bobby now?"

Dean threw a thumb over his shoulder. "Down by the river bed. He's not taking it too good."

"And Sam?" Harry asked looking around the outside of the car. "Where' Sam, Dean?"

"He's in there," Dean said, pointing to the back of the Paddy Wagon.

Harry had to contain a gasp as he saw Sam's body lying prone in the caged backseat of Bobby's truck. Harry climbed into the backseat and gently straddled Sam. Harry put his hand on Sam's chest and immediately a pulsing blue light began to coat Sam's body.

"Sam?" Harry asked tenderly, trying to see if Sam was still conscious enough to give a physical response. The dark blood pooling around them made Harry suspect that the bullet may have nicked an artery or a lung. Harry tried to be optimistic and take the fact that Sam's breathing wasn't shallow as a good sign.

Dean appeared at the window. "Is he going to be okay?"

Harry shrugged distractedly and shook his head. "I don't know, I'm going to have to heal a little bit at a time. I'm still waiting for my diagnostic spells to finish checking him over. Dean, there's a lot of damage here."

"Just fix him," Dean begged brokenly. "_Please._"

Harry nodded, never taking his eyes off of the blue light surrounding Sam's body. "This is a stasis spell, Dean. It's basically a way of magically freezing someone before their injuries get worse."

"How long can that keep him that way?" Dean asked as he chewed on his bottom lip.

"Maybe ten minutes," Harry answered honestly. "The worse off someone is, the less time you can sustain the spell. I'm going to need to start fixing some of these wounds anyway."

Several dark purple spots began to erupt through the blue coating. Harry pointed at the largest purple marker. "That's where the bullet exited Sam's chest. The darker purple the spot is the sooner it has to be healed."

"But you can do it," Dean said affirmatively. Harry wasn't sure who Dean was trying to convince more himself or Harry.

"Just give me some time, Dean," Harry requested politely but firmly. He knew that Dean was hurt and nervous but Harry couldn't walk on eggshells around the hunter if he had to save Sam's life.

Dean nodded. "I'll go find Bobby. See if he wants to talk…"

Under normal circumstance Harry would have teased Dean for trying to start a chick flick moment with Bobby Singer of all people. However he was painfully aware that these were not normal circumstances. Even if it was the only option Bobby had to save Dean's life, Harry knew that the hunter must be a complete wreck over having shot Sam.

With his diagnostic spell complete Harry realized that Sam probably wouldn't survive even with his magical interference. Normally Harry's magic could have repaired a bullet wound fairly easily but Azazel had been wreaking havoc on Sam for over a month. The lack of sleep and malnutrition had taken a serious toll on Sam's body with Bobby's bullet sending him over the threshold of Death's door.

Harry braced himself as he decided on his next course of action. During the war he'd given a great amount of respect to the Medi-Wizards and Witches who had been responsible for saving countless lives. Some of the practical knowledge that Harry had picked up had allowed him to save a few lives on the battlegrounds himself.

There was one healing method that had been politely deemed 'experimental' by many of the Healers in St. Mungos and had been treated with disgust by most of the Purebloods. Harry himself hadn't known where he stood on the issue but now that it was Sam's last hope, Harry didn't have the convenience of debating the ethics of the procedure.

Back in his world there were several mortally wounded Wizards whom magic couldn't save simply because it would completely drain the magic out of whatever Healer that tried to save them. A magical procedure had been adopted to correct this problem where a magical creature had their magic siphoned out of them and into the patient. Magic was a natural healer, automatically moving to fill in gaps and heal wounds. Sometimes the process was a success and other times both the patient and the magical creature died.

Harry was more powerful than a random Healer, though. Besides his own magic – which he more of anyway – he also had a second soul inside of his body that added to the total. There was a good chance that Harry might very well survive the process but all that mattered to Harry was that it gave _Sam_ the best shot at survival.

Immediately Harry opened up his magical core and began to aim the out flowing magic at Sam's chest. He created a small magical funnel that drain out of him and into Sam, invisibly linking the pair. Although the magic wasn't apparent to the naked eye, Harry could feel the heat surrounding them and the crackling sounds in the air.

Apparently Dean had also noticed the environmental changes since he returned the car and watched Harry try to save his brother. Harry didn't know how long he sat in the car as his magic drained out of him and into Sam. His only judgment of time was the rate at which the purple stains on his stasis spell turned back to blue.

"Harry," Dean called from the open car door. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Harry answered taking a moment to let his eyes focus on Dean. It was only beginning to strike the Wizard as strange that his head was suddenly dizzy. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Dean pointed at Harry's head. "You're bleeding."

Harry rubbed the back of his hand beneath his nose and felt the moisture gathered there. He lifted the hand away from his face and Harry's eyes widened slightly as he saw the red smears of blood. "That's not good."

"No shit," Dean replied moving forward and turning Harry's head around to check him out. "What's this mean?"

Small dots formed at the edges of Harry's vision. "My magic's running out."

"And that makes you bleed?" Dean asked incredulously. "Why the hell didn't you tell me that would happen?"

"I have to save – save Sam," Harry whispered simply. It suddenly felt very nice to close his eyes and just lean against Dean's inviting shoulder. "Didn't realize how much healing he'd need… there's so much blood…"

Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head and his limp body slumped down next to Sam's.

"Bobby!" Dean screamed hoarsely for help. "Bobby!"

* * *

John Winchester had never been a very good sleeper. Before his wife, Mary, had died he'd never had a problem staying asleep for an entire night. It had all changed when he had started hunting. Bad things came from the dark for innocent people when they were at their most vulnerable, and even worse things came for hunters. John didn't know a hunter who didn't sleep with the proverbial 'one eye open' for threats.

Which is why it was so strange that his body relaxed the moment he crawled into bed. Like all fathers his mind was filled with worry over what could have happened to his children. Trapped in the safety of the Fidelius Charm he had no way of being contacted by the outside world, no possible method of learning the fate that had befallen his loved ones.

And yet he slept so peacefully.

Even more strange is that John Winchester had dreams – but not just any old dream. The Winchester patriarch had the most vivid dreams he'd ever had in his life. It was strange how he could feel the clothes on his body as if he were actually wearing them. He smelled the exotic aromas of an anonymous chef wafting through his home. John could even read the old books that had been carelessly left open – which truly struck him as odd since it he had heard that it impossible to read in a dream.

Which is when he realized that he wasn't dreaming. No, John Winchester was in fact remembering things he'd long since forgotten. As that realization gripped him, another memory struck him – one that reminded him why these memories were so vivid.

_It's the memory spells wearing off,_ John thought to himself, suddenly remembering Sirius explaining what the sensation would feel like. The hunter had been fascinated as Sirius had described the science behind it.

As the memory unsealed itself the brain moved it from the subconscious to his conscious mind as he slept – thus how it mimicked a dream. New neurons were ignited as the memory was recreated in the conscious mind and making it appear to John as if he were living the moment for the first time.

"I don't like it," John heard himself grumble stubbornly. "I don't want to hate you, Sirius, and I especially don't like the idea of you messing with my brain."

Sirius appeared before him in the same kitchen that John had been dreaming about. The smells of the man's potions work flooded John's senses. John chuckled as he saw that Sirius Black was wearing a bright red apron with a dog emblem on it. Beneath the dog an inscription joked, _"My dog's not the only one who humps in this house."_

"Quit whining," Sirius rebuked him with a smile. "I'm the one who has to do all the hard work around here. Besides you should be honored to be the one who gets to take down _The_ Sirius Black."

John scoffed. "Yeah, like that's hard to do."

Sirius took the spoon he was using to stir his potion and pointed it at John's head menacingly. "I'll have you know that I was once the most wanted man in Europe and no one ever caught me! It's quite the privilege to catch such a dangerous man as myself."

"Didn't you say your 13-year old godson had to save your flea-bitten hide?" John asked with a teasing grin.

"Shut up, Winchester, or I'll turn you into a toad." Sirius faced away from him so that his embarrassment wouldn't show.

John checked his watch. "I need to go check on Sam and Dean at the motel anyway."

Sirius flicked his gaze back towards John. "You ever going to settle down and let those boys grow some roots?"

John paused at the threshold of the kitchen. "Well this was the only home base we had and now that you're planning on – on disappearing for awhile, I guess not."

"You can't blame all your problems on me, John," Sirius warned him. "Soon enough I'll be gone and you won't have me as a scapegoat – or should I say scapedog?"

"We'll manage," John replied before walking out of the room. Before he left the house he shouted back to Sirius. "I'll be back tomorrow for the memory spell!"

The images blurred as the memory finished returning to his conscious mind. John's eyes shot open and he gasped for air as he woke. His eyes darted around the room searching for danger – it'd been a long time since he'd slept so deeply.

The only certainty John had was that Harry's theory about trust being the key to unlocking his mind had been correct. By telling the Wizard about Sam's unnatural connection to Azazel part of Sirius' spell had broken down.

John's only question now was how to get the rest of the memories to come back and how much trust he'd have to put in Harry to make that happen.

Because one way or another, John was going to remember the truth.

* * *

_One Week Later…_

Harry screamed and bolted upright in the bed.

The Wizard gasped for air and winced as the sunlight streaming through the windows hurt his eyes. Harry looked around frantically as he was in too much pain to recognize his surroundings as the bedroom he and Dean shared at Bobby's.

"It worked!" A voice shouted in triumph next to him. "Bobby it worked!"

Harry whipped his head around and was surprised that the voice belonged to Dean. The hunter gazed back at him with a proud and downright loving smile.

Harry glared at the hunter. "WHAT THE FUCK, DEAN?"

Dean's eyes widened at the mixture of panic and fury that dominated Harry's face. Dean glanced down at Harry's exposed skin and his eyes widened in realization.

"I'm so sorry," Dean apologized as he began wiping the ice cubes off of Harry and into a suspiciously empty bucket next to the bed. "I thought it might help wake you up and – well, it worked."

Harry was still shaking violently from the cold and he was practically hyperventilating as the adrenalin coursed through his veins. "You dumped ice on me?"

Dean nodded nervously. "I was reading online about different ways they wake up coma patients."

"I was in a coma?" Harry asked, trying to keep up with Dean's story.

"Um, well, the things is…" Dean stuttered as he refused to make eye contact with Harry. "We… didn't really know what was wrong with you. You were out so long that I thought it might be a coma. I figured it couldn't hurt, though."

Harry shakily held up his limbs that were bright red where the ice had made contact with his skin. It was no wonder Harry was so cold, Dean had removed all of his clothes but his boxers.

Harry gasped as a stray ice cube was displaced by Dean's maneuverings and became buried between Harry's back and the mattress. "You're an asshole."

Dean grinned at him. "You say the sweetest things."

"_Evanesco!"_ Harry stuttered and waved his hand at the remaining ice. Harry was surprised when only some of the ice disappeared. "What the hell?"

"Bobby said that might happen," Dean interjected, seeing the confusion on Harry's face. "Your magic well is still dry – or something along those lines."

"It's a core, Dean," Harry snapped angrily. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About a week," Dean shrugged, scooping up the remainder of the ice. "There, all done. Is that better?"

Harry managed to shake his head – which wasn't difficult since his body was still shivering uncontrollably. Dean sighed and took his own shirt off.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, eyes wide. "I'm _not_ in the mood."

Dean chuckled and climbed into the bed with Harry. The hunter winced at the cool dampness left over from the melting ice. Harry hummed pleasantly when Dean wrapped his arms around him, pressing their chests together.

"It's called body heat," Dean explained, his teeth chattering slightly. "Or didn't they teach you that at your fancy magic school?"

"Shut up," Harry replied, lifting his head up into the crook in Dean's shoulder. Harry could feel the man's goose pimples against his cheek. "You're going to be cold and wet, too, now. You know that right?"

Dean nodded causing friction between Harry's cheek and his neck. Harry gave another low moan as the movement created some minor heat. "Friction is good."

"If you insist," Dean replied taking the comment as a demand. He began rubbing his arms up and down Harry's back. Harry hummed and began moving his own limbs against Dean's.

"That's nice," Harry complimented, enjoying the feeling of heat finally settling into his body. That ice had been very cold.

Dean chuckled. Harry could feel the vibrations echo through Dean's chest and into his own. Dean felt something else from Harry and chuckled even more. "And here I thought you said you weren't in the mood."

"Shut. Up." Harry muttered again into Dean's shoulder blade. "It's biology and _yes_ they did teach that at Hogwarts."

Dean laughed out right. "That is such a terrible name for a school."

Harry turned his head and glared at the hunter. "Can you stop insulting my alma mater?"

"You're what?"

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "It's Latin, Dean. Or didn't they teach that to you in your traveling hunter school?"

Dean blushed in response. "You must be feeling better to be insulting me so much."

"Thought I was doing a pretty good job of that when I was still cold," Harry replied with a smirk. "Jerk."

"So what you're saying is you don't need my body heat anymore?" Dean unwrapped his arms and made as if he were going to get up.

"No, no, no," Harry muttered quickly, pulling Dean down on top of him once more. Harry rolled his eyes at the cocky grin on Dean's face. "This is fine."

Dean smiled and placed a kiss on the top of Harry's head. They lay there like that for some time until Harry was warm enough to change positions. Dean sighed as he was finally able to lay on his back. The change of positions was even better once Harry tucked his head between Dean's arm and his pectoral.

"How's Sam?" Harry asked hesitantly. He had taken Dean's good mood as a sign that Sam had survived but now he worried that the hunter's original reaction was only relief over Harry finally waking up. "Is he okay?"

Dean nodded much to Harry's relief. "Doesn't have a scratch on him. On the outside at least."

Harry tilted his head up curiously at Dean. "What's that mean?"

"Demon's still fucking with him," Dean muttered angrily. "Asshole won't even let him sleep a full night. Missouri wasn't kidding about those nightmares, I can hear him screaming from the house some nights."

Harry's responding shiver had nothing to do with the ice and everything to do with Azazel's menace. "We have to get him out of Sam's head."

"Not until you're better," Dean said firmly. "You can barely vanish some ice let alone deal with a demon."

"He's not that powerful when he's out of his host," Harry reminded Dean. "Remember what you said about Sam not being possessed but instead being controlled?"

Dean nodded.

"It means that Azazel's controlling him from a distance," Harry explained. "It's much less power than if he were inside Sam's body completely."

"So?" Dean replied uncaring. "You're still going to wait."

Harry sighed. "Every night I have to wait is one more night that Sam is left alone in that panic room with Azazel."

Dean looked away from Harry. "Sam's tough, he'll be okay. Besides he wouldn't want you to risk yourself until you knew you could take of both of you."

Harry hated when Dean was the rational one. Mostly because it meant he was the one suggesting the crazy ideas. "Okay."

Dean pulled Harry closer allowing the Wizard to wrap an arm around Dean's midsection and hold on. "How's Bobby?"

"Coping," Dean replied simply, clearly not wanting to go further into the subject. "There's something I have to tell you, though."

"What?" Harry asked, a nervousness building in the pit of his stomach. "What's wrong?"

"It's Dad," Dean answered guiltily. "I told Sam he was still alive – which means I told Azazel. It's why he got so mad and tried to kill me."

Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to control his reaction. His first response was panic. He went through every aspect of the Fidelius Charm to make sure that simply knowing John was alive wasn't enough to endanger him. Then Harry felt the anger of having his plan unraveled by Dean's clumsy mistake. He'd put everything on the line only to have his own boyfriend fuck it all to hell.

But Harry couldn't be mad at Dean. What was done was done and all that was left to do was figure out their next move. Harry realized that Dean wasn't going to like the next phase of Harry's emergency plan at all.

"How long until I'm good to go?" Harry asked, finally breaking the tense silence.

Dean shrugged hesitantly. "You're the Wizard. You tell me when you think your magic batteries will be recharged."

Harry thought for a moment. "Give me a few more days of rest and then I'll go speak with Sam and Azazel."

"What do we do about Yellow-Eyes?" Dean asked.

Harry smiled grimly at him. "I'll let you know after we've dealt with Sam."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Dean asked though he instinctively knew the answer already.

* * *

_Three Days Later…_

The walk from Bobby's house down to the panic room was surreal to Harry. Each step closer he took to the room that had once been his prison was a painful reminder of his time spent there. Harry being able to use his magic inside the room had allowed him plenty of creature comforts that he kept hidden from his jailors, that hadn't been his problem with the panic room. In truth, the most painful part of his time there had been the distrust he'd been treated with by the people he'd come to care about the most.

And now Sam was the prisoner and Harry was the one filled with distrust.

Dean pulled back the cover from the metal window to check and make sure that Sam was still sitting on the far side of the panic room. Harry leaned his head forward and peeked through the bars to get a look himself. He was surprised at how accurate Dean's depiction of Sam's mental state was.

Sam was sitting with his back against the far corner of the panic room. It unnerved Harry how his friend's normally empathic eyes were now glazed over and lethargic as they stared back at him. Harry offered his imprisoned friend a weak smile that received no physical reply.

"He's been like this the whole time?" Harry inquired as Dean slid the metal covering back into place.

Dean nodded. "Hasn't moved since we dropped him there a week ago."

Harry shivered at the thought. "So whatever Azazel did, he's still doing it to him."

"You sure you want to do this now?" Dean asked, worried. "You're still recovering. Last time I got close to Sam we ended up having to shoot him, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Harry murmured as the memory of Sam's blood covering Dean's body resurfaced vividly. "The sooner we get Sam free of Azazel's hold, the sooner we can all go to your Dad's place. Azazel won't be able to find us there."

Dean knew it was necessary but he still didn't like the idea of Harry venturing inside the panic room. And as little as he cared for that idea he _really_ hated the fact that Harry would be putting his own mind inside Sam's where they knew Azazel was hiding out. Unfortunately Dean also knew that he could never stop Harry from helping Sam.

"Okay," Dean agreed, stepping closer to Harry and pulling him forward by the hips. Harry raised an eyebrow in question as their hips met but Dean merely held him firmly. "You have to promise me that you'll be careful, ok?"

Harry smiled at Dean's overprotective nature. "Of course."

"Good," Dean replied before locking his lips with Harry's. They kissed tenderly for a few moment before Harry reluctantly pulled away.

"You'll keep watch, yeah?"

Dean nodded before he unlocked the large metal door and pulled it free. Harry slipped in quickly and tried not to shudder as he felt the air seal behind him. Through all of this Sam still didn't react.

"Hey, Sam," Harry greeted as he moved closer. Sam's eyes focused on Harry but otherwise would have given the same reaction as if Harry were under his invisibility cloak.

Harry sat cross-legged in front of Sam. "I'm here to help, Sam."

No reaction. Harry sighed and shifted so that he and Sam were gazing into each other's eyes.

"Just relax, Sam," Harry instructed as he slipped into the dark blank that was Sam's mind. "It'll all be over soon enough."

"I was wondering when you would show up," Azazel's voice said from the dark recesses of Sam's mind, the silky tone echoing around Harry as if hooked up to a surround sound system.

"Funny," Harry replied calmly, "I was going to say the same thing about you, Azazel."

There was a low, rumbling chuckle that resembled thunder more than it did laughter. "I have so missed your charm, Harry. It's been too long since I've had you under my thumb."

Harry fought back the urge to shiver. "Enough of these games of hide and seek. Either come out and play like a big boy or leave so I can go back to fixing Sam's mind."

"Why would you want to do that?" Azazel asked as his image materialized from the darkness. "I think Sam's perfect just the way he is."

"He's insane," Harry shot back.

Azazel smiled. "Exactly. Don't you remember how _boring_ the littlest Winchester was at college? All his potential and training and he never had any fun with it."

"And you think biting random people and attacking others is fun?"

"What's got two thumbs and a demon membership?" Azazel asked as he shook two thumbs at himself. "_This_ guy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Thankfully you don't have a say in the matter. Sam's real family will take care of this."

"I am his real family!" Azazel shouted, genuinely angered. "I've put more time, sweat and _blood_ into Sammy than John Winchester ever did! He's just as much my child than some hunter."

Harry smirked at the demon. "Last time I checked you already had two children. Don't you remember me killing them?"

Azazel's yellow eyes burned with fire as he lunged at Harry. The Wizard didn't even bat an eye as a wall of ice appeared between the two. Azazel smacked headfirst into the ice and was sent sprawling onto his ass.

"This isn't my first mental rodeo," Harry gloated as Azazel licked his wounds. "I know more about defending a mind than you could ever hope to learn."

"We'll see about that," Azazel declared ominously before his image disintegrated into darkness once more.

Harry prepared himself for an attack but Azazel was far sneakier than the Wizard had given him credit for. Instead of trying another direct mental assault, Azazel used his control over Sam's mind to distract the Wizard. As Azazel tore through Sam's memories a second at a time, images flew by Harry like one would turn pages in a book. Trapped within Sam's mind Harry had no choice but to be pulled backwards in Sam's mind.

"I've been poking around his mind for some time," Azazel informed Harry as he continued to throw memories at Harry. "And while they may not have been the information on John Winchester that I was looking for, I did find some _very_ interesting memories."

Azazel finally settled on dropping Harry in Sam's memory of his and Jess' first date. Harry watched with a heavy heart as Sam nervously pulled a chair out for Jess at the restaurant. It had been a long time since Harry had seen Jess' face but there she was vibrant and alive… how could he not be distracted for a moment?

Harry felt a cold mental shove as Azazel used his moment of distraction to try and forcefully evict the Wizard from Sam's mind. Harry wasn't that easy to remove. He was a master of the mental arts after all. Instead Harry magically used the force pushing against him to trace it back to where Azazel was hiding in Sam's mind.

Turning the tables on Azazel, Harry held the demon in place as he threw Sam's memories at his enemy. Azazel struggled against the onslaught of happy images that Harry forced on him. Birthday parties turned into first kisses which transformed into laughing with Harry at a frat house before evolving into daydreams of what a happily ever after with Jess would have been like.

The more the demon struggled, the more magic Harry used to bind Azazel inside Sam's mind. If the evil asshole wouldn't voluntarily leave Sam's mind then at least Harry could trap Azazel long enough to seal most of the backdoors into Sam's consciousness. Then Harry would be free to shove Azazel out of the last hole and plug it permanently.

Azazel surged against Harry and – true to Samuel Colt's theories – the demon's own demonic magic counteracted with Harry's and broke through long enough to escape. Azazel began a tactical retreat through Sam's mind with Harry's mental presence chasing him down the corridor of Sam's subconscious.

Harry was surprised when he finally caught up to Azazel and found that the demon had stopped his fleeing. Instead the demon had paused in front of what appeared to be a bank vault. Harry narrowed his eyes as Azazel approached the vault and began to spin the dial that was the locking mechanism. A heavy weight suddenly grew in Harry's stomach as he began to suspect what was inside the vault.

"What is that?" Harry asked hoping that his suspicions would be proven incorrect.

"This," Azazel replied with an evil grin. "Is a memory block. I'd assumed you be familiar with it, Harry. Your magical signature is all over it."

Harry knew that the demon wasn't lying. With his ability to sense magic Harry knew for a fact that he himself had created that memory block. Azazel didn't know how Harry had done it but Harry knew. For some reason, Harry had cast an obliviating spell on Sam which had resulted in this specific memory be sealed away from Sam's consciousness forever.

Most people didn't know that casting a simple _Obliviate_ didn't just erase a memory. The human brain was too complicated for such a magical maneuver. Instead the memory loss spell was designed to push the selected memory into the subconscious where it would be locked away forever… unless another Wizard were powerful enough to release it.

And from Azazel's display a few minutes ago, the demon would most likely be able to counteract Harry's magic long enough for the memory to escape.

"I have to admit to being very curious," Azazel said as he gave the door a final spin. "I've been waiting to get you down here for a long time – because whatever it is has got to be absolutely _devastating_."

"Stop!" Harry shouted as he thrust a burst of pure magic at Azazel.

Azazel was forced to abandon the sequestered memory. Had Harry's rush of magic hit him his mind would have had no choice but to evacuate from Sam's.

"This is pointless," Azazel said as he disappeared again. "You can't possibly find all of my little doors into Sam's mind. I've been in here too long."

"My magic is healing him, Azazel," Harry reminded the demon. "_All _of him. Already it's sealing any open wounds – which would definitely include your 'doors' – and soon there won't even be any for you to escape back to your own body."

"You lie," Azazel hissed angrily.

Harry shrugged. "Want to bet?"

There was no need for the taunt as Azazel had already fled Sam's mind. Harry knew that the demon would never risk being trapped in that way. Harry's magic was too foreign to him to take that risk.

Harry channeled his magic and let it flood Sam's mind, sealing up every backdoor Azazel had left behind. Inside Sam's mind there was no concept of time so Harry had no way of knowing how long it took him, but he wasn't stopping until Sam's mind was safe once more.

Unfortunately all of that time spent healing Sam's mind left Harry to worry about the memory he'd locked away in Sam's mind. He tried to remember when he would have obliviated his best friend but realized that he most likely had cast the same spell on himself. Whatever it was, it was clear that there was a literal Pandora's Box inside Sam's mind and Harry wasn't stupid enough to open it.

At least…not yet.

Harry pulled out of Sam's mind and returned into his own body. He opened his eyes and found that Sam was staring back at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"Sam?" Harry asked tentatively.

Sam nodded tersely, his shoulder shaking as he tried to keep himself in check. Harry smiled and held his arms out invitingly. Sam sighed in relief before burying himself in Harry's embrace. The vibrations of Sam's outpouring of emotion made Harry shake along with his best friend.

"It's going to be okay," Harry whispered comfortingly. Sam's tears dampened Harry's shoulder but Harry could care less. They had Sam back and that was all that mattered.

Behind him Harry could hear the soft sounds of Dean's own tears falling.

* * *

Sam ate his cereal and tried to ignore the three men staring at him. It wasn't really Sam's fault that he was getting so much attention. Sure there was milk escaping out of the sides of his mouth as he attacked his food but the others had been accustomed to his odd eating habits since his first growth spurt.

It was simply an oddity to see Sam eating his cereal because they had almost lost him so many times over the past month that it was a miracle he was even sitting there.

"Can you please stop staring?" Sam begged around a mouth full of spoon and sugar. "I'm just trying to eat in peace."

Dean quickly wiped the concern off his face and replaced it with his trademark cocky grin. "Yeah we saw that and Bobby's neighbors can probably hear it."

Sam blushed at the insult but continued on his mission to eat Bobby out of house and home. Since Azazel had been in charge of Sam's body he'd not eaten very much – besides blood that is. Sam was determined to gain back whatever fat and muscle he'd lost.

Harry rolled his eyes at Dean. "You want another bowl, Sam?"

Sam nodded eagerly and passed his now empty one across the table to Harry. The Wizard chuckled bemusedly before refilling the contents and passing it back. Sam grinned in thanks before once more turning his complete attention to his food.

Bobby pushed the swinging door open and stepped through with his mail. He stopped when he saw Sam sitting at the table and his eyes opened wide. Sam looked up at Bobby and smiled sheepishly at him. "Hey, Bobby."

"That him?" Bobby asked the room in general, his eyes never leaving Sam's face.

Harry nodded before realizing that Bobby wasn't looking at him. "Yes, Bobby, it's really him."

Bobby swallowed thickly. "Good to have you back, Sam."

Sam moved to stand up but the motion startled Bobby, causing the older hunter to move back a few paces. Sam paused and glanced at Dean and Harry for help.

"He's not mad at you, Bobby," Dean said in an attempt to get the man to relax. "He's just happy he didn't kill anyone."

"I wanted to thank you, actually," Sam added nervously.

"Yeah?" Bobby snorted angrily. "Well don't. Welcome back, Sam."

Bobby turned on his heel and fled the room. The trio could hear him marching angrily up the stairs before slamming his bedroom door shut. It didn't matter, when Bobby was in that touchy of a mood everyone knew better than to go knocking on his door.

"Did I do something to him?" Sam asked, concerned at the man's reaction. "I thought I only hurt Missouri and Dean. I didn't expect him to be angry with me."

Harry shook his head in response. "I don't know why he acted like that."

"His wife," Dean grunted his answer.

"Oh," Sam replied his eyes wide with solemn worry.

Harry looked between the two brothers. When it was clear that no one was going to explain what they were talking about Harry pinched Dean's elbow fat.

"Ow!" Dean yelped, rubbing his arm. "What was that for?"

"You want to tell me what silent conversation you two are having is about?" Harry demanded, glaring at both brothers.

Sam and Dean shared a look. Harry pinched Dean before magically emptying Sam's cereal bowls.

"Hey!" both brothers complained at the same time. Harry folded his arms across his chest in a silent display of impatience.

"His wife was possessed by a demon," Sam explained in a quiet voice. "She tried to kill him and he – he defended himself."

"It's how he got into the business." Dean lowered his eyes. "Everyone's got a story like that."

Harry felt the pity well up in his stomach. Now he understand how Bobby could be so upset with Sam thanking him. It was bad enough that Bobby had been forced to make that choice once and that it was his wife. But to choose to kill someone you care about _twice_… it was cruel beyond measure.

"He'll get over it," Dean continued. "Just give him some space for now, Sam."

Sam nodded in compliance, suddenly not concerned with eating so much.

Harry turned to Dean. "Guess it's time we moved him anyway."

Dean nodded before turning back to look at Sam. "You sure Sam's clean, right? No more Azazel back doors?"

"100% Sam," Harry confirmed. After all Harry had only swept Sam's mind every few minutes since letting Sam out of the confinement of the panic room. "It's safe."

Sam eyed them both nervously. "What's safe?"

"Safe to see Dad."

* * *

As predicted Sam enjoyed Harry's plan about as much as Dean did. When Harry thought about it he was amused at how similarly the Winchester men reacted to being placed into hiding.

"At least you're alive to resent it," Harry quipped to the two grumpy Winchesters. Bobby raised an amused eyebrow but otherwise remained quiet. "It's almost noon so everyone please grab on to the sock."

Sam grimaced. "Did it have to be one of Dean's socks?"

Harry held out the sock he'd made into a portkey that morning. "There were an odd number of his socks, so I thought I'd make use of it. Just be happy it's clean."

"Why does no one think I'm hygienic?" Dean grumbled, grabbing hold of the sock. Bobby and Sam followed suit and within minutes the foursome were hurdling through time and space.

Harry was pleased to note that he wasn't the only one to fall on his ass upon arrival at John's hiding place. Bobby groaned as he sat up and sent a glare at his Wizard friend. Harry shrugged before helping Sam up.

"So this is it?" Sam asked looking around the empty pasture. "I thought you said there would be a house."

Dean smirked. "Just wait."

Harry sent Dean a quelling look before whispering the John's secret location into Sam's and then Bobby's ears. Both men watched in fascination as the cottage John Winchester had been staying in appeared out of thin air. As with Dean's arrival, John appeared at the front door and walked towards the group.

"Well I'll be damned," Bobby muttered.

Sam took a deep breath but otherwise kept himself together. Dean looked disappointed that his brother wasn't having as an emotional reaction as he had. Harry supposed that being warned beforehand about John still being alive would give you a better chance to save face.

John stopped right in front of Sam and the two looked at each other for a moment before reaching out to embrace. Harry smiled at the welcome and watched joyfully as father and sons were reunited once again.

"This is really impressive," Sam complimented Harry after everyone had gotten caught up on the events of the past week.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry replied with a nervous smile. "You know you're probably going to be here for a long time right?"

Sam nodded. "I know the drill. We all hide here while you go and get the bad guys."

Harry hung his head. "It won't be that bad. You get to spend time with your father and Dean. Won't that be good?"

"I feel like I'm 9 all over again," Sam admitted quietly so that the others couldn't hear. As it was Dean, John and Bobby were exchanging dirty jokes so loudly that Harry doubted they would be overheard anyway. "I'm splitting a room with Dean, Dad's going stir crazy and all my friends have moved on without me."

Harry playfully slugged Sam in the shoulder. "I'll be here everyday. Besides you'll see the outside plenty. We still have to hunt, you know."

Sam grinned at him. "I guess it could be fun."

"Ready to see your room?" Harry asked excitedly. He'd taken a page out of the Weasley handbook and decided to magically add a few rooms to John's small cottage. While it still looked the same outside, Harry had given Sam and Dean a room to share.

Bobby had a small spare bedroom to utilize as well. Since Azazel had raped Sam's mind he knew where the Winchesters had been staying which meant that Bobby's house was no longer secured.

"We going inside or what?" Dean yelled impatiently from where the other group of hunters was congregated. "I'm starving!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I'm surprised I agreed to date that man."

"I'm surprised Dean dates at all," Sam joked, earning himself another punch to the shoulder.

Harry was surprised when John motioned for Harry to lag behind. Bobby, Dean, and Sam all entered the house and kept themselves occupied by scoping the place out. Harry could hear random exclamations as they discovered rooms that could not possibly exist inside a house that small.

"What's up, John?" Harry asked, his brows furrowed as John led them off the porch.

John struggled to speak for a moment before finding his words. "I have a favor to ask you."

"You? You want to ask _moi_ for a favor?" Harry teased with a grin. "Pray tell, is it a favor of the magical variety?"

"Shut up," John glowered at the Wizard. "You know it involves magic or else I would have just asked Bobby."

Harry brought his hands up to his chest in surrender. "Alright, fine. What's the big favor?"

"With Azazel on the loose I'm afraid he might go after some old friends of mine," John explained. Harry immediately adopted a more sober attitude; after all he knew what it was like to fear for the life of a friend when you're mere existence was threatening them.

"You might me to just warn them or actually spell some security wards?" Harry asked.

John shifted nervously. "You'd have to keep your distance. They're hunters after all. They wouldn't take kindly to me sending a Wizard to their homes."

"Of course, John," Harry replied. "Just give me their names."

John eyed Harry for a moment before deciding to trust him. "Most of my hunting buddies can take care of themselves, but there is one person that might need some help."

Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Okay…"

"And if there's anything you can do keep their house safe," John continued nervously, unsure how to ask for Harry's assistance when he was still so set against magic. "I'm not saying anything like the set up you've got for me here but maybe some wards or something?"

"I'll do whatever I can," Harry promised, confused as to why John still wasn't giving him the name of the person he wanted protection for. "John, who is it that's got you so worked up?"

"His name is Adam," John said quietly. "Adam Milligan."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know this seems like a cliffhanger but it's not – at least it's not as bad a one as it could have been :)

The reason I'm not ending on a dire cliffhanger is that **I'm going to be taking a break from writing for a bit.** I'm going to be finishing/editing my original novel that I wrote for NaNoWriMo and, with any luck, trying to get it published! I know it's selfish but I really need to do this. How many times in our lives do the stars align and give us the perfect opportunity to write a full-length original novel? I don't know about you all but it's pretty rare for me. It's my life's dream to be a published writer and this is my best shot.

**I will return to writing this story by April.** Until then I ask first for your patience followed quickly by your supportive thoughts and prayers. It's not an easy endeavor to embark on and I could really use all of the help I can get :)

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a **REVIEW!**


	10. Oh, Stepbrother, Where Art Thou? Part 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** This is a two-part chapter. It was getting too long for just one chapter and I wanted to update sooner. Hope no one minds.

This chapter is** dedicated to my friend ForeverEmrys**. It is a "welcome back from basic training" gift for him as well as his present for officially becoming an American Airman! He is without a doubt one of the most dedicated readers of this story. Most of my chapters would never be completed without his tweets of encouragement (or derision if I start slacking off LOL). Everyone please join me in saying CONGRATS to him and thanking him for this chapter FINALLY being finished.

Just a bit of a **HEADS UP** about the altered timeline in my story to avoid confusion and questions later... In _Supernatural_ canon it's not until Season 4 that Sam and Dean meet Adam. In my timeline Harry comes across him two years earlier when Adam is still just a simple junior in High School that still lives at home with his hard working mother.

As always **don't forget to read the Author's Note** at the tail end of the chapter…

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 9:  
**"**Oh Step-Brother, Where Art Thou? – Part 1"**

"Hey j-j-jaded, you got your Mama's style  
but you're yesterday's child to me.  
So jaded.  
You think that's where it's at  
but is that where it's supposed to be?"

- Aerosmith, _Jaded_

_THEN…_

"_With Azazel on the loose I'm afraid he might go after some old friends of mine," John explained. Harry immediately adopted a more sober attitude; after all he knew what it was like to fear for the life of a friend when you're mere existence was threatening them._

"_You want me to just warn them or actually spell some security wards?" Harry asked._

_John shifted nervously. "You'd have to keep your distance. They're hunters after all. They wouldn't take kindly to me sending a Wizard to their homes."_

"_Of course, John," Harry replied. "Just give me their names."_

_John eyed Harry for a moment before deciding to trust him. "Most of my hunting buddies can take care of themselves, but there is one person that might need some help."_

_Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Okay…"_

"_And if there's anything you can do keep their house safe," John continued nervously, unsure how to ask for Harry's assistance when he was still so set against magic. "I'm not saying anything like the set up you've got for me here but maybe some wards or something?"_

"_I'll do whatever I can," Harry promised, confused as to why John still wasn't giving him the name of the person he wanted protection for. "John, who is it that's got you so worked up?"_

"_His name is Adam," John said quietly. "Adam Milligan."_

* * *

_NOW…_

Harry frowned at the name. "I don't remember Dean mentioning any hunter friends named Milligan."

"Know a lot of hunters, do you?" John asked with bite. Harry wasn't the only one surprised by the angry response. It was the first time in nearly a month that the Winchester patriarch had snapped at Harry without any serious provocation.

"Like – I – said," Harry replied in an overly calm manner. It was the tone of voice usually only reserved for when speaking with people threatening to jump off bridges and rooftops. "It was Dean who hadn't mentioned any hunters by the name of Milligan before. I only know hunters through him which means he hasn't met this Milligan fellow before."

John's shoulder slumped. "I apologize. I didn't mean to snap at you."

The wizard's eyes flew open wide. "Okay, now I'm worried."

"Why because I apologized? I am capable of owning up to my mistakes." John must have read the doubt in Harry's face because the angry frown returned with vigor. "You going to accept my apology or don't they teach you manners at witch school?"

Harry rolled his eyes; content that John wasn't being possessed by a polite demon or something equally ridiculous. His suspicions about this 'Adam Milligan' person were far from satisfied though. The fact that John had kept their conversation outdoors was enough of a warning but the hunter's heightened emotions were further proof that something was off about the whole story.

"So what can you tell me about these mysterious Milligan's?" Harry pressed.

"Nothing mysterious," John corrected quickly, avoiding the younger man's gaze. "Adam's father was an old-school hunter. Never told his wife or kid about the business before he died and I'd like to keep it that way." The hunter shoved a warning finger at Harry but still refused to angle his body towards him. "That means no contact. You think you can do that?"

Harry nodded. "No contact. Got it."

John hesitated as if he were testing Harry's words for deception. Finally he nodded back, apparently satisfied with Harry's agreement. "Last time I checked in on them Kate, Adam's mother, was still working full time as a Nurse. The kid should still be in High School so you'll have daylight to work without either of them home."

"That should be plenty of time for warding the house but what about cars or pendants?"

The weary hunter's frown was barely visible in the moonlight. "Pendants?"

Harry sighed as he slipped into what Ron called his 'Hermione impression' he used whenever he had to explain something technical. "You can infuse objects with magic for a variety of purposes. In this case I could put some protective charms on their cars to keep the bad things from getting inside. Same thing goes for if they have an object they wear most of the time – a pendant or a cross of some kind."

John gave him a slightly suspicious look. "You do that with people's stuff a lot?"

"Mainly just Dean's things," Harry admitted with an innocent chuckle. "I turned Dean's sock into a Portkey to get him and Sam here. Last year I put a tracking spell on that leather jacket he likes so much. You know, just in case something went wrong and I had to find him quickly."

John squinted into the dark. For a long time there was nothing but the sound of the wild and the whistling of air moving through tree branches. Harry didn't mind the quiet. After spending his childhood listening to a house of Dursley's 24/7, silence was something to be appreciated. Spending 7 years in a dorm with Ron and his snoring Harry had learned the value of a peaceful night even more.

"Kate doesn't wear anything like that but Adam has a silver chain," John said, breaking the silence. He met Harry's eyes for the first time since they're conversation began. There was something pitying in those eyes – a message meant for Harry that the wizard couldn't seem to decode. "He never takes it off. You can probably spell that."

"Sounds perfect." Harry smacked his hands together before rubbing them excitedly. "I'll leave tomorrow morning for the Milligan home. Just leave the address on the counter. Once they're done I'll see who everyone else wants me to check in on."

John's eyes narrowed at him. "Remember what I said, Harry, no contact. I mean it."

Harry let out a frustrated groan but nodded anyway. He was slowly getting used to John threatening him. It was just how the man liked to handle things. Besides the man had used his first name and not some insulting pseudonym. Progress was progress. Harry didn't feel like spitting in the face of the older man's effort to play night.

"I get it, John, believe me I do," Harry said, silently cheering for not stuttering over using the man's first name. "They're innocents. If your friend had wanted his son to grow up to be a hunter he'd have told him about it. They get the white picket fence and we get the monsters under the bed. I have no problem respecting that."

They headed back to the house but Harry couldn't resist the one thought that kept coming to him during their conversation. He didn't want to risk upsetting John with a bad memory but Harry couldn't help himself. "This Milligan guy must have been a close friend for you to keep an eye out for his family like this."

"Closer than you know."

* * *

The magical additions Harry had put on the small cottage meant that the living room was now more of a common area that anything else. John's bedroom still branched off by the kitchen wall but there were three new doors on the other walls. The one behind the couch led to a second bathroom – one that was desperately needed with all of them there. The two doors on either side of the fireplace led to bedrooms. Bobby had taken the single, queen bed to the left. Sam and Dean were sharing the room on the right – a twin bed for each of them. Of course there was enough room for Harry to expand Dean's bed for when he would sleep over.

Despite their earlier misgivings about going into hiding, Bobby, Sam and Dean seemed to be enjoying their time at the cabin. John was certainly enjoying the new company. The reaction was hardly surprising after months of only having Harry to talk to. By midnight the five men had drank their way through most of the alcohol in the kitchen and settled down in the living room.

The small coffee table had become a poker table. It was too low for them to sit on the couches and play so everyone had settled on the wood floor with pillows and blankets. Originally they'd tried getting Harry to magically enlarge the coffee table but the wizard had been too drunk to try it.

"It's like a slumber party," Harry giggled loudly.

Bobby let out a deep, deep laugh at the drunken comment. "So this is why you never drink with us, Harry?"

"He's always been a happy drunk," Sam answered for Harry. After years worth of Thirsty Thursdays spent keeping an eye on his drunk roommate, Sam had earned the right to tease him about it. "Careful, Dean, he gets flirty, too."

Dean smirked at him across the table. "I know, he's been trying to find my leg under this blanket for the last two hands."

All of the other men – even John – laughed.

Harry tried to glare at them but the bright red blush on his cheeks ruined the effect. "I am not drunk. I'm just a bit tipsy."

"You had three aces and you folded," Dean replied as if that were all that needed to be said.

"How did you know what I had?" Harry demanded.

Dean offered him one of those full grins for which there was no defense. Many pairs of legs had been uncrossed after seeing that look. "You kept flashing me your cards while you were trying to grope me under the blanket, Harry."

Harry's dropped his cards on the table. "I fold again."

"Surprise, surprise," John muttered under his breath.

Ignoring the grumpy hunter, Harry crawled around the corner of the table and next to Dean. He checked out Dean's cards while he played with the hair at the nape of his lover's neck. Sam didn't bother to deal his magical friend in for the next round, letting Harry and Dean play as a team. As soon as Dean found himself a winning hand, Harry let his fingers drip further down the broad shoulder and started to lightly stroke the muscles there. Dean had wanted to be comfortable for the game so he'd taken his plaid button up off which left him in just his white undershirt. The cotton was so thin that he felt Harry's every touch as if there weren't any barriers at all.

Dean shuddered under that touch and shook his head, trying to focus on his cards. "I'm playing here, Harry."

The wizard put his lips so close to the other man's ears that every pronunciation of his next words were like miniature kisses. "So am I, Dean."

"If that's not cheating I don't know what is."

Harry let his left hand stroke the sensitive part of Dean's side. His finger nimbly traced the outer edges of his stomach muscles so that it wasn't quite tickling and yet released sensations that were _oh-so_ explosive. Dean's stomach clenched at the feeling before dropping his own hand to capture Harry's. Instead of forcing him to stop, Dean surprised Harry by simply flattening his hand against the side. Their fingers intertwined in that comfortable embrace of hands that only couples can pull off without looking like lovesick teenagers.

"I'll raise," Dean announced before using his free hand to flip a few blue poker chips onto the volcano shaped pile.

Harry tried not to show his frustration at being ignored. He wasn't really mad at Dean – they both knew that this was yet another of their little games for dominance. Harry had made it clear that he wanted to take Dean back to the bedroom and ravage him. While Dean had never turned down sex in his life, he also couldn't simply give in. Harry was either going to break him or Dean would retain control. If Dean thought that Harry being the bottom would make him any less dominant than he was in for one hell of a surprise.

Deciding to feint his defeat Harry let out a loud yawn and snuggled further into Dean's side. He dragged the blanket that had been covering their playful actions further up their bodies. As much as Harry wanted to torture Dean, he didn't want to sex him up right in front of his father, brother and surrogate father… at least not so blatantly.

"I guess you're his pillow now," Sam snickered behind his cards.

Dean smiled proudly at the comment, thinking he was taking credit for having controlled Harry's and his own urges. John cleared his throat uncomfortably to interrupt whatever sexual innuendo was about to come out of Dean's mouth. The older brother merely hugged Harry closer to him and smirked at his younger sibling. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the game at hand.

Harry's attention was on another game entirely.

While Dean was dealing the next hand Harry let the hand that hadn't been captured roam. He slid his middle finger into the waistband of Dean's jeans. Dean was so caught off guard by the action that the card he'd been dealing to Bobby flew right over the man's head. Through the narrow crack he'd made in his eyelids Harry could see the other three men looking at Dean in confusion.

"It slipped," Dean muttered weakly.

Harry waited for the others to turn away before he gave himself enough leverage to reach the button and zipper of the jeans. He could have used magic to help himself out but somehow it felt like cheating. This was a test of wills, not magic. Dean's hand shook as he finished dealing and set the deck on the table. Harry wasn't sure if the vibration was from trepidation or excitement – either one worked for him.

Dean nearly lost the next two hands of poker while Harry played explorer. Never once did the wizard touch Big Dean or the twins, but he did manage to massage everywhere else he could reach at that angle. His absolute best move was faking a breathy snore and blowing half onto Dean's ear and half onto his neck. Harry could see the goose pimples rise where his breath had caught.

It wasn't until the third game that Dean had begun to struggle with being touched everywhere but where would provide him the most release. When Harry massaged his right thigh, Dean would try to angle himself so as to brush his hardness against the smooth skin of Harry's arm. Of course every time he tried to do so, Harry would punish him by letting out one of those _special_ snores again.

Harry knew he'd one once Dean began to stop paying attention to his cards. His chips were disappearing as quickly as Harry was evading his efforts for release. Harry ignored his Gryffindor instincts and embraced his inner Slytherin; he went for the kill and showed no mercy. The wizard returned his massages to Dean's thigh and waited for the hunter to try and rub against him once more. Harry gave him only the briefest of contact – for which Dean let out an embarrassingly loud gasp – before pulling away completely.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked, faking sleepiness and pretending that Dean's gasp had woken him up.

"An hour maybe," Sam replied as he gave Dean a quizzical look. "You okay over there?"

Dean did an admirable job covering up the anxiety Harry's teasing had caused him. "Yeah just starting to pass out, I guess."

Harry grinned evilly at him as he stood up, abandoning his position next to Dean. The hunter moved quickly to cover up his unbuttoned pants and the bulging boxers beneath. "I'm headed to bed then. Night all." His evil smile widened as he gave Dean puppy eyes. "Don't you want to join me, Dean?"

"I think I'm going to play one more hand," Dean answered testily. He shifted to cover himself more fully and had to grimace as the blanket rubbed against Big Dean. "Maybe two or three hands actually."

Harry nodded knowingly. "Don't stay up too late, love, I know how _hard _that can be on you in the mornings."

And with that, the Wizard left the hunters to their game. After all, Harry had already won the real jackpot of the night. It was Dean who should have folded.

* * *

_Windom, Minnesota_

The Milligan Family lived in a three floor Victorian home, though the majority of the top floor was a short tower that looked like an attic only large enough for basic storage. The neighborhood made Harry think back to what he'd said about the Milligan's being innocents. At the time he'd been referring to them as living in that ideal white picket fence life but there really was a white picket fence. The neighbors had perfectly trimmed hedges and all of the lawns were green. The road was wide and well paved. Hell, Harry couldn't even find decent sized cracks in the pavement. It was as innocent as a small town could get without going completely Stepford.

Harry had apparated in directly across the street from the Milligan house. John had borrowed Sam's computer and used some program from _Google_ to help him visualize where he'd be landing. It was a neat trick that Harry tended to exploit even more in the future. He wondered if any of the Muggleborns from his own universe had ever tried to use the program when apparating to new locations.

The wizard could have simply used a spell to break into the house but he was enjoying the atmosphere too much. There was something about how secretive John had been about the Milligan's that had drawn out his inner Marauder. He wasn't planning on breaking his word to John about making contact with either of the family members – but there was something so vague about 'making contact' when it came to magic. Harry knew a loophole when he heard one. After all, he could learn so much about the mysterious family without ever having to speak to either Adam or Kate Milligan.

Besides, he had to wait for the boy to come home so that he could spell the necklace John had told him about. Deciding that was a good enough excuse to hang around for a bit, Harry found a rather comfortable place to wait… the Milligan's front porch. He'd had to cast a powerful disillusionment charm to go undetected but it had been worth it to mess with the neighbors. The cushioned porch swing provided the Wizard with a perfectly comfortable place to wait. He took particular care to make the swing move when the neighbors walked by. More than one dog walker had stopped to stare at the odd sight before hurriedly moving down the street. The lack of breeze made some of the gawkers pale or make a cross over their chest. It made Harry feel like that alien from the movie _Predator_ that Dean had made him watch during one of their date nights.

It was almost 4 o'clock when a blue truck with silver streaks pulled into the gravel driveway. The long wiry legs of a teenager spilled out of the driver's side, a backpack slung casually over one shoulder. Harry watched the teen, Adam, check the mailbox and give a friendly smile and nod to a passing car. The boy's dirty blond hair was cropped just enough to not take away from his strong jaw structure and bright blue eyes. There was little doubt in Harry's mind that it would only be a few years until the teenager would add muscle to those gangly limbs and the inner heart breaker would emerge; after all, he'd seen the exact same thing happen with Ron after their 5th Year.

Harry stealthily followed the teenager through the front door and into the front entrance. The Milligan boy dropped his bag on a chair by the stairs and disappeared down a narrow hallway that led into a bright, modern kitchen. The Wizard was pleasantly surprised to see that the kid had gone for the platter of red apples instead of the junk food that so many of his classmates were slowly killing themselves with.

While the Adam got comfortable in front of the television, Harry decided to check out the rest of the home. There was a formal dining room that looked as if it hadn't been used since the Milligans had moved in. A shame really since the bay windows gave such a pretty view of the front yard. Besides the kitchen and living room, the rest of the ground floor was dominated by an open office space. From what Harry could tell it looked as if it held a computer that the household shared.

Thanks to his silencing charm, the stairs were completely mute as Harry made his steady climb. The walls of the stairs were filled with pictures. Not even the Dursleys had put as many pictures of Dudley up as Kate had of her son. All of the boys' school portraits were there; soccer and lacrosse team photos; birthday parties; roller coaster 'scream shots' from family vacations; newspaper clippings with Adam's name constantly listed on the honor roll; even a science fair award had been mounted on the wall.

The only adult that was a constant in the pictures was Kate, Adam's mother. From the scrubs she wore in every other frame she was definitely a full-time nurse. Her blonde hair had started to turn grey over the years but her affection for her son hadn't dimmed in the slightest. No matter what age Adam appeared, she always had her arms full of him; usually to the mock-upset look the boy gave the camera. There were only a few pictures where she was with a man that wasn't Adam… though the two looked fairly similar.

Harry leaned forward to get a better look at the picture. He was reaching for the frame when his hand suddenly froze in mid air. The Wizard's eyes flew wide open and he nearly gasped aloud. The other man was John Winchester. Harry ogled the photos, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. John had mentioned checking in on the family now and again. He'd said that he had been close with Adam's father, the hunter. Harry tried to ignore his nagging suspicion about how close the resemblance was. It wasn't until Harry began to imagine Adam standing next to Sam and Dean that he knew he wasn't wrong.

The Milligan teen looked eerily like what Harry imagined a magical lovechild of Sam and Dean's would look like. It had been Dean's cocky grin that Adam had flashed the passing car outside. It had been Sam's tall legs and wide shoulders that had lumbered out of that truck. It was John's strong jaw that Adam used to bite into that apple.

It felt to Harry like an eternity had passed before his legs stopped shaking enough to let him walk back down the stairs. His whole body vibrated with rage at John Winchester. At the moment in time nothing would have made Harry happier than apparating back to the cottage and confronting the man. There was disaster written over the entire situation and it had been John who thrust him into the middle of it.

John would want him to keep his secret. Dean would never forgive him for keeping this from him. Secrets had always threatened their relationship but after the last fight... Harry would never keep a member of Dean's family from him again. Hiding the existence of another brother would be more than enough to end their relationship. Not to mention Sam's reaction. Just the imagined look of betrayal Sam would give him made Harry shiver.

"Adam?"

Harry nearly jumped at Kate Milligan's call. There was one terrifying moment where Harry thought that the woman was looking at him. Then he remembered that he was invisible and she was looking through him at her son. Harry quickly moved to the side of the hallway so as not to have Adam attempt to walk through him.

Adam gave his mother a warm hug of welcome before taking the groceries she had in each hand. Kate closed the door behind her and followed her son into the kitchen. Harry followed her, chuckling nervously at his invisible and bizarre game of follow-the-leader. Adam had already started to unload the bags, seeking out the items that went on high shelves and leaving the rest for his much shorter mother to put away.

_Definitely more like Sam_, Harry thought in amusement, _always such a goody-goody._

"How was your shift?" Adam asked with a teasing smile as if he already knew what the answer would be. Harry got the impression that Adam did a lot of good-natured teasing. The smooth grin made him think of Dean this time.

Kate waved a cucumber warningly at her son. "Don't start, mister. You know I had a rotation with the babies." She shook her head sadly. "You were such a good baby; not fussy in the slightest. What is it about these new babies that just make them cry, cry, cry?"

Adam chuckled in a voice so deep it could have been John's growl. "You're just so pretty that they can't help but cry."

Harry rolled his eyes at the weak flattery that only teenagers can come up with. Kate was all warm smiles and gratitude. She gave him another hug that let Harry know he hadn't been wrong about his impression of her from the pictures; Kate Milligan was an overly affectionate woman. It wasn't a good or bad thing but it definitely wasn't Harry's thing. He could appreciate a Molly Weasley hug but after awhile even Harry had had to learn the careful art of dodging her arms from the twins.

Kate was in mid hug when she stopped and sniffed the air. She squeezed her nose with her fingers and waved her other hand in front of her face. "Did you shower after practice today?"

This time it was Adam who rolled his eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Well go do it again," she said, already mock-pushing him towards the hallway. "Try that new body soap I got you. It's supposed to help with all that terrible teenage smell."

While Adam tried to hug her again to give her another unpleasant whiff, Harry took the opportunity to go upstairs. There were only three bedrooms and it didn't take him long to figure out which one belonged to the teenager of the house. Harry resisted the urge to gape open-mouthed at the AC/DC and Foreigner posters that dominated the walls. The familiar taste in music to Dean's was unnerving but Harry tried not to get distracted.

This could be his best opportunity to get that necklace off of Adam without being noticed. John had said the boy rarely took it off. The shower would probably be his best bet and he didn't want to waste it. Harry took a position behind the door and waited for Adam. He kept his eyes averted to give the teen as much privacy as possible while Adam stripped out of his clothes. It wasn't until Adam was walking out the door with a towel around his waist that Harry spotted the necklace still on him.

Harry swore in his head and wondered how much damage would be done if he stunned the kid and borrowed the necklace for a few minutes. Not wanting to get stuck on the wrong side of the door, Harry followed Adam into the bathroom. Suddenly the disillusionment charm was making him feel creepy and all stalkerish.

While he waited for the water to get warm, Adam checked himself out in the mirror. Once again Harry was reminded of Dean's personality. He'd personally walked in on Dean appraising his own body several times before. Apparently there was a genetic disposition towards vanity and rock bands in the Winchester family. When the steam began to build, Adam finished his flex poses and lifted the chain off his head and put it on the counter.

_Thank you, thank you, thank you,_ Harry praised Merlin, God, Fate, the Universe, Paris Hilton; pretty much any being that might have wanted to take credit for helping him out.

With Adam safely behind the shower curtain, Harry moved to grab the metal chain. His hand had almost closed around the thin, silver links when he felt a pulse of energy building in the object. The wizard had enough time to take a step back before said energy threw itself at him and knocked him into the wall hard enough to dent the plaster. The light bulbs above the sink crackled and exploded, sending the room into pitch-black darkness.

"Adam?" Kate yelled from downstairs. Her voice sounded frantic enough that Harry doubted the power outage had only been in the bathroom.

The teen had already shut the water off and had stuck his head around the edge of the curtain. Harry gingerly stood away from the wall. It wasn't until Adam gasped that Harry realized the power in the necklace might have affected his disillusionment charm. With only the thin lines of light from under the cracks around the door to see, Adam could only see the shape of someone in the bathroom with him. Harry was much closer to the mirror and could see that he was fully visible – or at least his shadowy outline was.

"Adam!" Kate's voice was right outside the bathroom door.

"Help! Mom!" Adam's voice was full of fear. "There's someone else in here!"

"Fuck," Harry swore before apparating on the spot. Suddenly a new stepbrother was just the beginning of the wizard's problems.

* * *

Harry was already moving towards the cottage the moment his feet touched the ground. By the time he hit the porch, he'd already slowed his pace to a steady walk. His breathing was under control before he pushed the front door open. A mask of calm was projected to the hunters so that they wouldn't detect the boiling rage beneath. This was John's mess and Harry would be damned if he was going to be the one put in the middle because of it.

He just needed to get John away from the others. A task easier to think of than to do in a house shared by five men and only three rooms. As it was the hunters were all over the living room, keeping busy but apart. John was cleaning his gun at the kitchen counter while Sam read a book (of course) on the chair by the window. Dean and Bobby were playing some kind of card game by the fireplace.

If he could just get John into one of the bedrooms…

"John can you show me that location on Sam's computer again?" Harry asked with an embarrassed smile. "I think I went to the wrong place."

John gave him a suspicious look. "That'd be pretty stupid."

Harry fought to not bite the man's head off. "I have my moments."

"It's charging in my room," Sam said without looking up from his book. "You guys can go in and use it though. Just don't unplug it."

"Great." Harry took John by the arm and squeezed, hard. "I really don't know what I did wrong. Maybe we looked up the wrong street or something?"

The instant Harry had closed the door behind him, John tugged his arm free of Harry's grasp. The hunter opened his mouth to shout at him but Harry held up a hand to silence him. Something in Harry's expression must have made John pause because he didn't make a sound. He waited and watched as Harry put up silencing spells on the door, walls, ceiling and floor.

"Now can I ask what the hell is wrong with you?" John demanded angrily.

Harry's eyes narrowed into slits. "Let's start with why the fuck you didn't tell anyone Adam Milligan is your son?" He felt a stab of victory at the way John's face paled. "Or maybe I should ask why you thought I wouldn't notice?"

"I…" John trailed off, his eyes going out of focus at the secret blowing up in his face.

Harry stalked forward, far from finished with his questions. He held up his hand to show the man the magical burns the necklace had given him. "How about you tell me about the magic necklace that Adam wears and why it attacked me?"

John's legs buckled beneath him as a new horror came to his mind. "Did Adam see it happen? Did he see the magic?"

"Oh, yes," Harry spat the words into the other man's face. "Your _son_ got a good look at the whole magical deal, including my face." He grabbed at John's shirt collar. "That necklace was magic, John, and not just any magic. It was _my_ kind of magic."

"I didn't know he'd done anything with the necklace," John defended himself, some of the color coming back to his face as his anger broke along the surface of his emotions. "It was just supposed to be a gift."

Harry leaned his face closer. "A gift from who?"

John's eyes met Harry's and that pitying look from the other night had returned in full force. It was such a foreign thing to see on John's face that it made Harry stumble backwards and away from it. "Adam's godfather gave it to him. I didn't know he'd charmed it or else I'd never have sent told you to go near it."

"Who is Adam's godfather?" Harry asked though the hollow feeling in his stomach betrayed his own guess as to the identity of the man.

"You know who he is."

Harry shook his head as if that would change the answer. "It's not true."

John nodded his head sadly. "I made Black his godfather. He was the only one I told about the boy's existence. Not even Bobby knew."

"You're lying. You're trying to turn this back on me."

"I'm not. Sam and Dean aren't the only ones connected to Adam." The pity was still there but John gave him a serious expression. There were no lies to detect on his face. "You and Adam are both the godsons of Sirius Black."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is the first of a two-part chapter. It was originally going to be very, very long but I wanted to update ASAP. I'm almost done with the second part so it will _definitely_ be posted this weekend. At this point it's mostly just an issue of editing.

I realize this chapter is seriously overdue and I apologize. My focus as of late has been whatever my Muse has been willing to work on. My original novel received most of that attention and then _Yanked_ when I was free. I wish I could promise more regular updates but I don't want to misrepresent my writing timeframe. Until the first draft of my original work is finished (God willing that will be soon) all updates will be infrequent and varied lengths. The only one I can guarantee is the second part of this chapter this weekend.

For updates on any of my stories (or just cause you feel like it) feel free to follow me on Twitter. For your convenience my profile is linked as my homepage.

**Most importantly, please don't forget to** **REVIEW**!


	11. Oh, Stepbrother, Where Art Thou? Part 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note:** Here's the rest of the two-part chapter! From your wonderful reviews, I know that many of you didn't see the twist about Adam's godfather coming. It's nice to see that I can still surprise even the most dedicated of you readers :)

Also – purely as a reminder – the Adam in my version of events is much younger than the one Dean and Sam discover in Season 4 of _Supernatural_. In this story Adam is 16 and still in high school. His mother, Kate, is also alive and kicking.

As always **don't forget to read the Author's Notes** at the bottom of the chapter…

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 9:  
**"**Oh Step-Brother, Where Art Thou? – Part 2"**

"The heart beats fast, you salivate;  
and when you come, it won't be late.  
I guess by now you got the score.  
A little taste and you want it more.  
From San Antonio to Marrakesh;  
yeah, when the night comes,  
everybody's got to have flesh.  
From the day that Eve did Adam,  
down to Romeo and Juliette,  
everybody's got to have…"

- Aerosmith, _Flesh_

_THEN…_

_Harry stalked forward, far from finished with his questions. He held up his hand to show the man the magical burns the necklace had given him. "How about you tell me about the magic necklace that Adam wears and why it attacked me?"_

_John's legs buckled beneath him as a new horror came to his mind. "Did Adam see it happen? Did he see the magic?"_

"_Oh, yes," Harry spat the words into the other man's face. "Your son got a good look at the whole magical deal, including my face." He grabbed at John's shirt collar. "That necklace was magic, John, and not just any magic. It was my kind of magic."_

"_I didn't know he'd done anything with the necklace," John defended himself, some of the color coming back to his face as his anger broke along the surface of his emotions. "It was just supposed to be a gift."_

_Harry leaned his face closer. "A gift from who?"_

_John's eyes met Harry's and that pitying look from the other night had returned in full force. It was such a foreign thing to see on John's face that it made Harry stumble backwards and away from it. "Adam's godfather gave it to him. I didn't know he'd charmed it or else I'd never have sent told you to go near it."_

"_Who is Adam's godfather?" Harry asked though the hollow feeling in his stomach betrayed his own guess as to the identity of the man._

"_You know who he is."_

_Harry shook his head as if that would change the answer. "It's not true."_

_John nodded his head sadly. "I made Black his godfather. He was the only one I told about the boy's existence. Not even Bobby knew."_

"_You're lying. You're trying to turn this back on me."_

"_I'm not. Sam and Dean aren't the only ones connected to Adam." The pity was still there but John gave him a serious expression. There were no lies to detect on his face. "You and Adam are both the godsons of Sirius Black."_

* * *

_NOW…_

Harry could hear the blood rushing through his ears. The 'Adam Situation' was _not_ supposed to be his drama. It was meant to fall squarely into the category of a Winchester problem. As far as the Wizard had been concerned his entire involvement was supposed to be getting John to fess up and then being Dean's emotional crutch. He had been prepared to be Dean's support. Now Harry was the one who felt faint at the news.

Most people – normal people – wouldn't have felt devastated at the news that they shared a godfather. Then again most people had a real family growing up. James and Lily Potter had died before Harry could even develop memories of them. Vernon and Petunia were more likely to hit him than hug him. Dudley… well Dudley was far from brotherly.

But Sirius had been family. Sirius broke out of Azkaban for him. Sirius risked his soul to save his godson at Hogwarts. Sirius joined the Order of the Phoenix to fight Harry's enemies. Sirius had died for him.

If Sirius treated Adam's status as a godson half as seriously than he'd have cared for Adam Milligan like a son. Which meant that Adam was just as much a brother to Harry as he was to Dean and Sam. It was that thought that broke through Harry's panic. The Wizard clung to the knowledge and his determination to keep his new "brother" safe. Harry knew what he had to do.

With just a flash of his hands, Harry collapsed the privacy spells around the room. The wizard stalked to the door in a flash. John cried out to him, to stop him, but Harry's mind was set. He pushed the door open with enough force that it slammed into the wall of the living room with a loud, dull thud.

The three hunters in the room all turned towards the sudden noise. Their actions betrayed their killer instincts as Bobby, Dean and Sam's hands all went scrambling for their weapons. Harry realized he must have looked seriously pissed for Sam and Bobby to keep a hold of their guns even after seeing who it was making all of the noise. Harry was both pleased and disappointed in Dean for being the only one to lower his weapon.

"Harry!" John followed him into the living room with a panicked expression on his face. The older man stopped next to the wizard and appeared to weigh his words carefully now that they were in front of company. He lowered his voice to a desperate whisper. "Please don't do this. The more people that know, the less safe Adam is."

"It's too late." Harry's tone was completely unrepentant. John might never forgive him for revealing Adam's presence. Sam and Dean might be devastated by the news that they had a half brother. None of that mattered to Harry as much as his promise to Dean never to keep secrets from him again. "You can tell them or I can. That's the best deal you'll get from me on this."

John glared at him. "This is not the way to get me to trust you, _boy_. We both know that if I don't than Black's memory spells will never fall away." He smiled as he saw the effect his words had on Harry's resolve. The hunter could practically taste the Wizard's weakness. "You'll never find your godfather."

Harry hesitated. Sirius had designed the spells to be dependant on John trusting the Witch or Wizard trying to break through them. If Harry pushed the truth about Adam than John would never trust Harry again. John might even do it out of spite. Either way Sirius would be lost to Harry forever. The aged hunter had picked the perfect weapon to use against Harry.

But Harry knew that that particular blade could cut both ways.

"You'd keep Adam from his godfather?" Harry spat back. "You've remembered enough to know that Sirius never betrayed you. You know that he was a true friend to your family. One of the best if you made him Adam's godfather. He was the only one you trusted with Adam's safety." John leaned back at the accusations and Harry pursued him mercilessly. "Are you really that much of a bastard?"

This time it was John that hesitated. "It's the only way to keep Adam safe; the only way to keep him out of the Hunter's Life."

Harry shook his head. "That was before, John, back when it was just you and Sirius to keep him safe from the monsters. You have two grown sons – some of the best hunters alive, by the way – and Bobby and I to help you now."

"It won't be good enough," John whispered desperately. "He's half Winchester. That's more than enough to get him killed." His eyes flickered to the other men in the room who were all straining to eavesdrop on the conversation. "Bobby lost his wife. You and Sam watched his fiancée burn alive. Dean's had already lost any chance at settling down and starting a family even before he met you… and he's almost lost you how many times now?"

"Which is why they'll fight to keep Adam out of it more than anyone," Harry argued back. "They won't want to see him following in their footsteps anymore than you do." Harry watched John's resolve crumble and his eyes brim with unshed tears. "They've earned the truth. Adam deserves to know his family." He put a comforting hand on John's shoulder and squeezed. "This is one burden you don't have to carry on your own anymore. All you have to do is share."

"Okay."

The whisper was so quiet that even standing next to the man Harry almost didn't hear it. The Wizard smiled reassuringly at the older man. The others must have sensed that the conversation had reached its conclusion because the guns lowered and the trio of hunters moved cautiously closer.

"Someone want to tell us what's going on?" Sam asked gently.

John met each of their eyes in turn, landing on and holding Dean's gaze last. He nodded shakily before moving to his usual chair and motioning for them to join him. After a quick gulp of brandy to settle his nerves John started his explanation.

"There's something you all need or rather _deserve_ to know," he started, glancing at Harry as he corrected himself. "A little over a decade ago I went to a small town in Minnesota to handle a ghoul infestation. The job went south and I ended up in a hospital for a few weeks. There was a nurse there who took a liking to me. Her name was Kate, Kate Milligan."

"Dad?" Sam interrupted, his eyes squinting in confusion.

Harry gently touched his friend's arm. "Let him finish, Sam. Please."

"Even after I got better we kept seeing each other," John continued as if he'd never been interrupted in the first place. "Sammy had started school full time and Dean had such a good handle on things… better than I did most of the time. So I kept making excuses to see her more and more often."

"You knocked her up." Dean's voice was hollow. There was no anger or surprise to detect. Even as Harry gazed into his lovers' eyes he couldn't begin to guess what Dean was feeling about the situation. There was just a deep blankness.

John nodded in reply. "Adam was born six months later."

Sam's body was tense under Harry's hand. "You have another son? We have a _brother_?"

The Wizard pushed a little magic into the touch, sending calming waves into his friend. Sam relaxed slightly into the couch. Never one to miss a trick, Sam rolled his head towards Harry and squeezed his eyebrows together into a question. Harry was flattered that there was only a curiosity in Sam's eyes rather than resentment at the emotional intrusion. It showed how much Sam trusted Harry not to use magic against him.

"I'll stop if you want," Harry offered.

Sam shook his head sluggishly. "Feels nice."

Dean looked more irritated at the display than at the news of his new sibling. "Why are you telling us about this now? Why not however many years ago when the kid first popped out of the oven?"

"Dean," Bobby muttered in warning.

"No, Bobby, I want to know," Dean answered with an angrier bite to his words than before. "How long have you been keeping my half-brother a big dark secret?"

John returned to his usual emotional safe haven; aggression. "Watch your tone, son."

"Which son are you referring to?" Dean shot back. "Me, Sammy or the bastard?"

Harry gasped in surprise. Dean could be quick to anger and even quicker to bitterness but never had Harry seen him be cruel.

Dean threw an accusing look at his boyfriend. "And how long have _you_ known, huh? Is this your way of keeping your promise? Helping my father hide another little secret from me?" The young hunter leapt from his chair, his height rising to match his temper. "You like lying to your supposed best friend and the brother you're fucking? Is it fun for you?"

_Smack._

The sound of John's fist colliding with Dean's jaw echoed through the room. The hit was hard enough that Dean was sent spiraling to the ground. Harry had gotten used to seeing the bored, lazy side of John that he'd forgotten how quick a hunter he'd been. John had leapt from his seat and sucker-punched Dean before Harry had finished blinking.

"Don't you ever talk to him like that!" John roared, furious. "He's the only reason I'm coming clean about this at all. Harry found out less than an hour ago and the _instant_ he did he came back here out of concern for _all_ of my sons."

John gazed down at the crumpled form of his oldest offspring with a disgusted look. "You want someone to blame, you come knock at my door. I'm the one who lied, not Harry. You're lucky you have someone who loves you enough to fight for you." His words started to choke around his emotions. "Your mother did that for me just like I'm sure Sammy's fiancée did for him. You're the only one left with someone to fight for you, Dean, and I want stand by and watch you throw that gift away."

Harry couldn't have said anything even if he'd wanted to. John's admission had left him speechless. He'd thought that pushing Adam's existence would make the old hunter hate his guts. The Wizard never imagined that it might bring them closer. The only thing less likely to have happened was John coming to his defense and now that was happening as well. Harry was half tempted to check the evening sky for flying pigs.

* * *

The awkward fallout of John's news and subsequent fight took the rest of the night to dissipate. It wasn't until Sam and Harry were getting ready for bed that they dared to even bring it up again. That Dean was banned from the room for the evening was an added incentive to bring it up.

"He didn't mean it." Sam said, defending his brother for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. "You know Dean wouldn't say that in his right mind."

Harry crossed his arms over his bare chest, clearly miffed. "I didn't hear you asking if I enjoyed lying to you while fucking your brother."

Sam gave him puppy eyes. "Yeah but you were doing that magical calming thing to me. Who knows what I would have said if you hadn't done that."

"Puppy eyes and a guilt trip aren't going to work this time, Sammy," Harry warned him as the hunter changed into his favorite muscle tank. "I admit that I've fucked up in the past but I did the right thing today and I still got blamed. This one is all Dean's fault."

"I guess," Sam agreed hesitantly, climbing into his magically enlarged bed. "But did you really have to make him sleep on the couch? It's a little domestic isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "That's why I did it. Dean will hate how cliché it is." His smile turned slightly bitter at his next words. "Besides I wouldn't want Dean to think he was fucking a liar now would I?"

Sam returned the grim expression. "I'm not going to change your mind am I?"

"The only who can do that is Dean," Harry responded as he tried to nestle into the covers. The bed felt cold and empty without the both of them to occupy it. His legs kicked at the bedding. He beat at the pillows, trying to firm them up to match the consistency of Dean's chest.

"You okay over there?" Sam asked in amusement. "Want me to help you murder the pillows?"

Harry glared at him across the room. "Keep your muscles over there, geek. My magic and I can take care of any needs I have."

Sam waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Needs, huh? I didn't know you used your 'magic wand' for that."

"Shut up," Harry replied meekly, his cheeks flaming in embarrassment. He flung a pillow at his best friend. "Since when did you start talking dirty?"

"I guess you're rubbing off on me," Sam muttered shyly before his eyes lifted to meet Harry's and his grin widened again. "Though not the kind of rubbing you prefer."

Harry gaped at him. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my bashful best friend?"

Sam paused and tilted his head to the side as he thought about it. Harry grinned at the all too familiar pose. All throughout college Sam had often adopted that specific head tilt whenever he was thinking about his own actions. As a logical person Sam had an amazing ability for self-evaluation. He made a humming noise as he came to his conclusion. "I guess I am feeling a little different. Not a bad different just… lighter, I suppose. Freer if that makes any sense?" He paused an extra minute to think about it. "Could this be from your magic?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose it could be a fading effect of the calming spells. Are you going to be mad when it wears off?"

"I know you were only trying to help," Sam answered, shaking his head and smiling as if to support his words. "You'd never use magic on me if it would hurt me."

They both froze at his words. The memory block in Sam's mind had been an awkward point between them since Azazel had shown it to them. With Harry's magical signature all over the block there was no denying that he had put the memory blocks in place. Seeing as Harry didn't remember putting it in place he had no choice but to assume that _whatever_ event he wanted to erase from Sam's mind he had also removed from his own mind.

They avoided talking about it at all costs… until now.

"Even if it's not the first time you did it," Sam added slowly, the side effect of Harry's calming spell emboldening him. "I still forgive you."

"So much for not talking about it."

Sam lowered his gaze to the floor. "Don't you ever wonder what could have made you erase our memories?"

Harry shrugged. "I try not to think about it, Sammy. It must have been a damn good reason and who knows what could happen if we pick at it. I know you've heard the story of Pandora's Box before."

"I know all that. I respect it even." Sam sighed, his shoulders falling heavily with his words. "But I can't stop thinking about it. Sometimes I even think… that maybe we…"

"Don't." Harry's voice was sharp like a whip and meant to sting like one. "Don't even go there, Sam. It's not that. We would never cross that line."

Sam used his peripheral vision to peek cautiously at him. "I know you liked me, Harry."

Harry's blush returned with a vengeance. "That stopped once you started seeing Jess. You know that." He fought to regain control of himself and the conversation. "I really don't want to talk about this anymore. It was embarrassing enough during freshman year. We're passed this. I love you, Sammy, but not the way I love Dean."

"Glad to hear it," Sam replied honestly, the relief evident in his voice. "And for the record I love you too. As far as I'm concerned Adam is my fourth brother."

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Anytime."

* * *

The call had come in the night before but John thought it best to wait and let everyone finish sleeping. Everyone knew he'd actually just been letting their tempers cool off. It was a strategy that seemed to be working since Dean's night on the couch had apparently done wonders to humble him. His red, tired eyes tracked Harry's movements while his body language screamed the pain the couch had put him in.

"What did she say?" Harry asked once everyone had assembled in the living room.

"That Adam was attacked by something while he was in the shower," John replied, leveling Harry with an irritated look. "Thanks for that by the way."

The Wizard burrowed further into his chair. "It's not like I knew his necklace was charmed to ward off magic. Otherwise I wouldn't have been thrown into a wall."

John ignored his defense. "Kate wants me there ASAP. She's scared shitless."

"Does this mean you'll have to tell him about what we do?" Sam asked quietly. "I thought we were going to avoid that at all costs."

"We are," John confirmed gruffly. "Which is why I'm taking Harry back with me."

Harry straightened up in alarm. "We're doing what now?"

"How else are we going to memory charm him?"

Sam and Harry shared an uncomfortable look at that idea. Dean caught the look and decided to break into the conversation for the first time. He spoke slowly so as to not cause further harm to the fat lip that John had given him. "What's with you two?"

"Nothing," they said at the same time.

"Right," Bobby replied skeptically. "Not that I don't love a good game of 20 questions but can we focus on the issue at hand. Are you really going to have Harry zap your kid's memory just to get out of telling him the truth?"

Sam rushed to add his support to Bobby's cause. "You don't want to mess with memory spells, Dad. Surely your experience with Harry's godfather must have taught you that."

"Adam won't remember seeing magic. He won't find out that I'm a hunter." John continued ticking off bullet points on his fingertips. "He won't be afraid of what's waiting for him in the dark. He'll graduate and go to college completely fearless. That sounds like justification enough for me."

Dean grunted. "Wouldn't want him turning out like us, right?"

Sam glared at his brother. "Don't be an ass, Dean. You and I both know he's better off growing up outside of the life."

"If I'm allowed to continue?" John asked caustically, refusing to look either of his sons in the eye. "As I was saying, Harry and I will go to Minnesota and check in on Adam. We wipe his memory and then Harry does his magic thing on the house to keep out the bad guys."

"Not that I'm not _tickled_ by the family reunion you have planned," Bobby interjected gruffly, "but what exactly are the rest of us supposed to do while you're on your little road trip?"

John shrugged. "Read a book. Play some poker."

Bobby rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. "You know this is not a vacation right? I'm not planning on growing old up here. We should be focusing on how to take care of old Yellow Eyes so that we can all go home."

"Believe me, Bobby, I haven't forgotten Azazel," John assured him with an irritated look. "As soon as this situation with Adam is taken care of _then_ we'll start drawing up war plans."

"Then get going," Bobby replied in a huff. "You Winchesters are starting to wear me down. The only reason I haven't gone and shot you all is Harry's cooking."

* * *

_Windom, Minnesota_

For the second time in as many days Harry found himself in Windom, Minnesota. Despite the fact that he wasn't using his invisibility charms to sneak around Harry couldn't seem to shake his nervous feelings. The bathroom had been dark after Sirius' spell had activated but he still worried that Adam might have caught a glimpse of him. Kate had called John's direct line because she was worried about their son's safety. Harry wondered how she'd react to John bringing the very person who had stalked Adam into the bathroom.

_Yeah, this is a terrible idea,_ Harry decided.

"You remember the cover story?" John asked as they walked up the cement sidewalk that lined the residential street. "I don't want you messing this up."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're a traveling salesman covering all of North America which is why you can't visit that often. I'm in training so you have to take me with you."

"And?"

"And I'm not to say or do anything unless instructed to by you," Harry answered testily.

John nodded sharply in approval. "Good."

The front door swung open and Kate Milligan came running out of the house. John and Harry both tensed at the figure rushing towards them. All of the cheer that Harry had previously seen in the woman was gone. Kate's movements were jerky and her eyes were squinted with worried. John managed to relax his posture as Kate flung herself into his arms and clung tight.

"Oh, John," Kate murmured, her voice tight with worry. "It was terrible. I could hear him yelling from the bathroom but I couldn't get in. Then there was this loud bang and the lights were off and…"

Harry awkwardly shifted from foot to foot as the woman listed off all the ways he'd shattered the Milligan Family's existence. The look John was giving him over Kate's distraught form wasn't helping his guilty feelings. The Hunter rubbed soothing circles into Kate's back, trying to comfort her. Harry stepped further away from the couple when their murmuring turned to a discussion of personal history.

"You come into town with John?"

Harry jumped at the sound of Adam's gravelly voice. The Wizard turned towards the house and the teenager that he'd freaked out only an hour or so before. He felt something inside of him relax when Adam didn't immediately recognize him.

"I'm your Dad's new trainee," Harry responded, trying not to let his nervousness show. He took special care to correct Adam's designation for John. Harry wanted Adam to feel as if John and he were close. "You must be Adam. You're bigger than in your father's pictures."

The teen hesitated on the top step. His dirty blond head tilted to the side as he studied Harry. Whatever the youngest Winchester spawn was thinking remained a mystery as Adam suddenly smiled and moved down the steps to greet him. Adam's handshake was firm and betrayed nothing of the unnerving encounter he'd had earlier in the bathroom.

"I see you two have met," John commented with one arm still around Kate. The pair had moved closer but John's eyes were too busy studying his son than to worry about whether or not Harry had spilled the beans. The man offered Adam a proud smile. "You're looking good, son. Almost grown."

Adam ran a hand through his short, cropped hair and gave an oh-shucks shrug of his shoulders. Realizing what he'd done the teenager straightened his shoulders and sucked in a lungful of air to make his chest seem thicker. The resulting effect of looking taller and bulkier was ruined only by the effort the teen had to put into doing it. John didn't seem to notice in the slightest as he uncoiled Kate's arms and embraced his son warmly.

_If only he were like this with his other sons,_ Harry thought sadly as he watched John whisper into Adam's ear. The boy's arms tightened around John's middle before he buried his head in the fabric of his father's plaid cover shirt.

Kate moved closer to Harry. The Wizard wasn't sure if it was just the Midwesterner's good manners returning to her or if she just wanted human comfort while John was occupied with their son. She shook Harry's hand with both of hers, wrapping the left one on top of his as if it were somehow more personal.

"John's never brought someone from the _office_ before," she whispered lowly, glancing back at the men in her life. "Have you worked with him long?"

"I'm just in training."

Harry smiled reassuringly at the woman. Kate knew that John was no traveling salesman. He also knew that the Milligan matriarch couldn't seem to wrap her head around Harry being a hunter of the supernatural. It wasn't the first time Harry had been underestimated but if it made the woman feel better than Harry could play the novice… for now.

Kate nodded shakily. "That's good. I know my son Adam is too young to do such things but when I saw you with John…"

"John's pretty adamant about Adam never joining the family business," Harry replied, keeping up their cryptic messages in case the boy was trying to eavesdrop. "At any age."

"Would you like some lemonade?" Kate offered, her voice leveling out now that she wasn't afraid Adam would be dragged away to start training. "It's fresh."

John cleared his throat to get their attention. "Lemonade sounds good. Why don't we all go inside and have some?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. He could picture it in his mind. A frosted jug of lemonade at the center of the table; the outside of the glass slowly soaking with perspiration. The four of them casually sipping at their drinks. Adam laughing at the jokes that John and Harry would tell (always at the others expense, of course). Every once in a while Kate might interrupt if the jokes turned to a slightly dirtier situation.

It was so simple, so _normal_ that it just looked completely inappropriate for Harry or John to be a part of it. Both of them had left normal behind several lives ago.

"You have a lovely home," Harry complimented Kate as he gazed around the house as if it were his first time there. "Very warm."

Kate smiled at him. "Thank you. Those are some very nice manners for someone who spends so much time with John." Her lips twitched in amusement and her eyes slid to where John was frowning at the pair of them. "_He_ definitely didn't teach them to you."

Adam gave his father a gentle punch in the arm. "That's for sure."

"I don't have a clue what you are referring to," John huffed.

Kate rolled her eyes. "You burped on our first date."

"You taught me my first swear word when I was 5," Adam added.

"I'm just old fashioned," John defended himself. "Men didn't used to have to hold their tongues… or their indigestion."

Harry laughed as they settled in the living room for their drink. He waited for Adam to finish serving the lemonade before answering Kate's question. "I think it's the whole English thing. We're all born with an instruction manual on how to act in polite society."

"And a stick up their ass."

"John!" Kate hissed, slapping his knee in reproach.

The Wizard just laughed. He'd grown used to John's sense of humor. It didn't help to take offense every time the Hunter chose to say something insulting. It was just his way. The Milligan's looked startled by Harry's reaction. John's lips twitched slightly as their eyes met; the look of understanding passing between them easily enough.

Adam frowned at the silent communication. "So how long have you two been working together?"

"Just a couple of weeks," Harry replied with a shrug. "I lucked out getting your father, though, he's considered the best in the business."

"Of course he is," Adam agreed proudly. "Maybe I'll score a gig like that for one of my summer internships. Wouldn't that be great, Dad?"

Kate shifted on the couch nervously. "More lemonade?"

"So your Mom said you had a bit of a scare?" John said quickly, eager to change the subject. Apparently both of Adam's parents were afraid for the boy turning to the life of a hunter. "An intruder right?"

It was Adam's turn to shift uncomfortably. Harry couldn't help but muse over how bright a blush all of the Winchester men had. It was why Harry had such a good time teasing Sam during college. Dean only blushed when Harry talked dirty to him between the sheets – something Harry took great pride in. Only that day Harry was witness to what made John blush; the teasing of the woman he loved.

Adam continued to show off his Winchester blush as he recapped the events of the morning. Harry held his tongue at a few embellishments that the teenager added. The Wizard tried not to take offense at being described as a 'giant, hulking pervert'. Harry supposed he'd try to make things more impressive if he had the chance to tell his father some of his own exploits.

_Then again_, Harry thought to himself, _ I wouldn't have to embellish much. Taking down a basilisk at age 12 was plenty impressive enough… even if I did nearly die._

"Did you call the police?" John asked once Adam had finished his summary.

Adam shook his head. "Mom said we should call you first… though I'm not really sure why."

Kate patted John's leg. "Under the circumstances of how the intruder escaped, I thought you'd want to know first. Plus I just felt safer having another man around the house."

"How _did_ he get out?" Adam asked quietly. The skin on the boys' forehead creased into thick dents as he thought back to that morning. "There's no way he got out before…"

Harry could see how hard he was trying to keep the crazy, impossible truth from forming in his mind. It was that same Muggle-wide quality to refuse to recognize that magic was real that had allowed the Wizarding World to remain hidden for so many years. No matter what Muggles tell themselves, the truth is that they would always be much happier just living their mundane lives than joining in on the supernatural side of things. He knew full first hand that even Hunters felt that way.

Kate was practically vibrating with nervous energy. Her knee rocked up and down, bouncing to the beat of her frantic heart. "He must have gotten out through the window or something. Intruders are sneaky like that…"

"You didn't see it… it was if he just…"

John and Harry locked eyes across the coffee table. The Hunter gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head towards his increasingly distraught child. Harry gave a little sigh before angling himself towards Adam. His hand twitched and a gentle gust of air swept over the inhabitants of the room. The teenager inhaled the magically created air and visibly relaxed against the cushions of the couch. Adam's eyes fluttered drowsily and his head struggled to stay upright.

"Adam?" Kate asked in concern.

John put a restraining hand on the woman's arm. "Just relax and let Harry do his work. It's all for the best I promise you."

Kate didn't look remotely mollified by his actions. In fact she was beginning to look downright pissed. "His work? What are you talking about?" Her wide eyes tracked Harry as he crossed the room and joined Adam on the sofa. "What are you doing to him?"

"I'm just putting him at ease," Harry assured her, palms up so that she could see he meant no harm. It didn't hurt that the Wizard flashed her his most charming smile. "As long as he relaxes the memory spell will work without damaging him."

"You… you mean… you're not… human?" She whispered the last word as if it might be considered impolite.

Harry chuckled. "Oh I'm human. I just come with some extras."

John glared at him warningly. "Harry has some skill with magic."

"_Some_ skill?"

"You're letting him do _magic _on our _son_?"

The Hunter ignored them both. "Just get on with it, Harry. The sooner Adam forgets about this morning, the sooner he can go back to being a normal kid."

Harry placed both of his palms on Adam's temples. He closed his eyes and focused on the events that Adam had just described. He slowly let the world around him blur and go blank. Kate continued to argue with John but all of her heart had gone out of the fight; her desire to see her son back to normal overwhelming any other concerns. Soon all he could sense were the blonde hairs pooled between his fingers and Adam's drooping eyes as he stared into them.

Adam's relaxed mind opened before him like a well-read book.

He only wished it would be so easy to deal with the eldest Winchester when he and John returned to the cottage.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long but I originally wrote this during Hurricane Irene's visit (or as she's known in my town 'The Whore of Babylon') and I only had pen and paper to write with. Between my mother's knee surgery, Dad's health appointments and writing my own novel, it took forever to find time to retype everything. There was a whole section more on spending time with the Milligan's but it didn't really add too much so I didn't bother typing it up. Maybe one day I'll add it as a bonus chapter or a flashback.

The other reason I posted today is that **it's my 24th BIRTHDAY**! So, as a gift to myself, I decided to alleviate some of my guilt about not posting an update on either of my stories before writing more of my original novel. I hope you also feel it's a worthy gift for all of you as well.

I've completely given up hope of regular updates. I'm on page 350 of my original novel with another 50 left to finish. **I will probably not update this story again until the first draft of my novel is finished.** Though I will update _Yanked from the UK_ once more before I disappear to finish my novel.

For updates on any of my stories (or just because you feel like it) feel free to follow me on Twitter. For your convenience my twitter profile is linked as my homepage.

**PLEASE don't forget to** **REVIEW**!


	12. Hell Hath No Fury Like A Wizard Scorned

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that you don't recognize (and is original material) is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

**Genre:** Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

**Rating:** M

**Warning:** Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. All lyrics at the beginning of chapters belong to their respective authors. _You Leave the World Behind_ should be read BEFORE reading this story, as it is the first story in this series.

**Summary:** Sequel to _You Leave the World Behind_. Harry continues to hunt with the Winchesters but his relationship with Dean is threatened by a dark secret. Unfortunately for Dean, Harry isn't the only one keeping secrets. Harry gains a surprising ally in the search for his godfather. SLASH.

**Author's Note: **Warnings for graphic SLASH below. But seriously if you've read this far then you should be expecting to see penis/prostate shipping by now.

As always **don't forget to read the Author's Notes** at the bottom of the chapter…

When the Lightning Strikes

Moriarty's Minion

**Chapter 11:  
**"**Hell Hath No Fury Like A Wizard Scorned"**

"Some fools think of happiness,  
Blissfulness, togetherness,  
Some fools fool themselves I guess.  
But they're not foolin' me.  
I know it isn't true, I know it isn't true.  
Love is just a lie, made to make you blue.  
Love hurts. Love hurts…"

- Aerosmith, _Love Hurts_

_THEN…_

"_What are you doing to him?"_

"_I'm just putting him at ease," Harry assured her, palms up so that she could see he meant no harm. It didn't hurt that the Wizard flashed her his most charming smile. "As long as he relaxes the memory spell will work without damaging him."_

"_You… you mean… you're not… human?" She whispered the last word as if it might be considered impolite._

_Harry chuckled. "Oh I'm human. I just come with some extras."_

_John glared at him warningly. "Harry has some skill with magic."_

"_Some skill?"_

"_You're letting him do magic on our son?"_

_The Hunter ignored them both. "Just get on with it, Harry. The sooner Adam forgets about this morning, the sooner he can go back to being a normal kid."_

_Harry placed both of his palms on Adam's temples. He closed his eyes and focused on the events that Adam had just described. He slowly let the world around him blur and go blank. Kate continued to argue with John but all of her heart had gone out of the fight; her desire to see her son back to normal overwhelming any other concerns. Soon all he could sense were the blonde hairs pooled between his fingers and Adam's drooping eyes as he stared into them._

_Adam's relaxed mind opened before him like a well-read book._

_He only wished it would be so easy to deal with the eldest Winchester when he and John returned to the cottage._

* * *

_NOW…_

Dean had been pranked by the best; namely his father and his younger brother.

Their father had started the tradition of pranking when they had first been dragged along on hunts. John had started off with simple gags like hands being dipped in warm water whenever he or Sam had fallen asleep during their turn at watch. They were the kind of pranks that kids their age were doing at sleepovers all the time. It was a fun reminder of the life they were leaving behind in favor of a quickly darkening world.

Over time John had started to up the ante so that the pranking became synonymous with training. Trip wires across the bathroom doorway would unleash a torrent of paintballs. Car door handles would be laced with liquids that would irritate the skin. Each new gag doubled as a lesson in hyper vigilance and situational awareness. The ultimate lesson being that nowhere, not even home, was ever truly safe.

Eventually Sam and Dean took over the pranking tradition as a means of working off any built up anger towards the other. There were only so many miles two brothers could travel while being stuck in a car with their father before irritation turned to violence. Especially not when said siblings were combat trained and had easy access to weapons. Prank wars were simply a more responsible method of burning off that bad energy before the brothers lost all love for each other. John certainly didn't mind that it kept his sons' minds active as each boy tried to out prank the other with increasingly more complicated traps and tactics that could one day be used in the field.

But in the week since Dean had blown up at his father and Harry he'd learned that Wizards pranked on a completely different level.

"Are those boobs?" Sam asked, eyes wide in shock at the porn-star level tits that were straining against Dean's favorite Aerosmith shirt.

Bobby joined the over sized hunter in gaping at Dean's modified form over the breakfast Harry was serving. Said Wizard merely chuckled knowingly as he finished scraping an extra portion of egg onto John's plate.

Dean tried – and failed – to cover the breasts that had magically grown from his formerly manly physique by crossing his arms. "Stop staring, Sammy. I know it's been awhile since you've seen a girl but these are indeed breasts."

"Is there something you want to tell me, Dean?" John asked, fighting to keep a straight face behind the coffee cup he was casually sipping from. "Perhaps you're planning on changing your name from Dean to Deanna?" The sound of Bobby coughing down his eggs interrupted him. "I want you to know that I'll love you no matter what. In fact, your mother and I always wanted a girl."

The sight of Harry walking around the small table with a set of empty glasses had Dean quickly shuffling backwards in retreat. "What are you going to do with those?"

Harry tilted his head in mock-innocence. "I was just going to ask you to fill these up? The milk in the fridge went bad and you've clearly got some to spare."

The three hunters at the table burst out laughing.

"Don't you think you're taking this little spat a bit far?" Dean muttered, his face burning in humiliation. "It was just a fight for Christ's sake."

"Oh, Dean, this is me taking it easy on you." Harry's bright smile promised only darkness, pain and the pranking knowledge one inherited after years spent hanging out with the Weasley Twins themselves. "If I was going all out you wouldn't have grown something… you would've shrunk something."

Dean quickly stopped trying to block the view of his gigantic breasts in favor of protecting his groin. He couldn't help giving a quick squeeze of Big Dean and the boys just to make sure Harry hadn't traded them in for a vagina.

Sam shook his head at his brother with a disappointed look on his face. "You could just say you're sorry."

"I did!" Dean exclaimed quickly, pausing at the odd sensation of boobs jiggling around his chest after throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Like a million times."

"And I'm absolutely going to forgive you," Harry stated happily as he sat down at the table and poured himself some orange juice. "Eventually."

Dean's answering groan was met with a second chorus of laughter.

"Whatever. Even as half a chick I'm still hot."

* * *

It was two days after Dean's boobs finally dissolved back into his defined pectorals that Sam finally decided to intercede on his brother's behalf. Harry was his best friend and, in light of Dean's spectacularly douche-tastic behavior, entitled to some revenge. But there had to be a limit to the punishment he could put Dean through. The boobs thing was funny but making him burp spiders every time the man thought about sex was going a bit far. It was also a painfully uncomfortable demonstration of just how often Dean's thoughts took a dip in the gutter.

So Sam decided it was in everyone's best interest to broach the subject. Years of being Harry's roommate had taught him that the Wizard was most helpful right before bedtime. Harry tended to be exhausted and eager for sleep, which meant he was quick to agree to Sam's demands just to get some peace. The downside was that Harry also tended to be short tempered if kept from his beauty sleep for too long.

"So, buddy, I think we should have a little talk…"

Harry immediately flipped Sam the bird, his head already burrowed deep into his pillow. "It's bedtime, Sammy-boy. That means it's the magical time of night I get to recover from cooking for three hunter shaped black holes, putting up with your father's incessant need to mock all things magical, and your brother's whining about spousal abuse."

"Well you have been giving him the magical cold shoulder lately," Sam replied, getting comfortable on his own bed in anticipation of a long fight. "And Dean _did_ apologize."

"He didn't trust me," Harry griped. "I find out he has a secret half-brother and instead of helping your father hide Adam's existence I immediately tell him the truth." A sea of unruly black hair bent side to side as Harry shook his head into the pillow. "Also when did our lives start sounding like really bad soap operas?"

"Probably around the time you, a Wizard, started rooming with me, a Hunter's kid," Sam mused.

Harry chuckled, finally freeing one side of his face from the protection of his pillow long enough to quirk an eyebrow at his best friend. "Sounds more like a Chuck Lorre comedy."

"Two and a Half Hunters?"

"The Big Fang Theory?"

"We are so lame," Sam declared chucking his own pillow at Harry only to have it magically caught halfway across the room by an invisible force before it flew right back at him. He caught it just before the pillow smacked him in the face. "No fair using your powers, Mary Poppins."

Harry glared at him. "Call me that again and I'll shove my magic, flying umbrella so far up your – "

" – I thought you people rode brooms – "

" – that you'll be choking on the handle – "

" – and, hey, is that a wart on your nose cause it sure looks like – "

" – which is fine because you won't need a throat to eat anymore – "

" – how many flying monkeys do you have by the way – "

" – because I only feed my friends my amazing cooking and you, sir, are no longer – "

" – or is _Dean_ supposed to be your flying monkey?"

Which was, of course, the last comment made before the bedroom door slammed open and the flying monkey in question barged into the room. Sam laughed at the pouted lips and bed head that his big brother was sporting. Dean grunted his anger at him before turning his attention to Harry. The glare only lessened slightly in its intensity.

"Is there a reason you two are giggling in here like two teen-bopper, Justin Bieber loving, nail painting, perfume sharing girls at their first sleepover?"

"Dean," Harry greeted completely devoid of emotion. Only the quick look he shared with Sam revealed the smirk he was hiding. "We were just talking about you."

Sam rolled his eyes. His brother was ridiculous when he was sulking. "We're sorry if the noise was keeping you up."

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "I was already awake. That couch sucks."

"You could always just sleep in here," Sam suggested, ignoring the betrayed look Harry shot him from his side of the room.

"Yeah?" Dean asked hopefully before catching sight of the surly expression on Harry's face. His eyes narrowed and a scowl blossomed. Sam had seen that look before. It was Dean's stubborn look; one meant to intimidate with his ability to keep his feet firmly planted on an issue. Dean clenched his lips as if to hold back whatever nasty reply he was thinking of before turning around and leaving the way he came.

Sam sighed. He was disappointed in his brother's choices. He was disappointed in Harry for not trying to work things out. Sam was about to say just that but the guilty look on his best friend's face made him hold his tongue. He was beginning to think that Harry wasn't being as hardheaded about their fight as he'd originally thought.

Apparently Sam was also wrong about what Dean had decided to dig his heels in about. He could see through the open doorway that Dean hadn't gone back to the doghouse that was the living room couch. Instead his brother was angrily packing up his things. Just before it looked like Harry was about to get out of bed and apologize, Dean went storming through the bedroom door. With a pillow tucked under one arm and a thin wool blanket dangling from his other hand, Dean didn't cut a very imposing figure. More like a kicked puppy in Sam's opinion. It was probably the only reason Harry didn't immediately start in on him.

Harry and Dean seemed content to just study each other in awkward silence. Well… silence that was awkward for him. They looked like they couldn't decide whether to beat down or start humping each other. Either way Sam did not want to be a spectator.

Sam cleared his throat. "I'll just give you two some time alone."

"No," Harry and Dean said at the same time.

Dean shook his head and added, "There's nothing to discuss. I'm not going to keep letting you punish me for something I've already apologized for."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "And that's good enough?"

"Probably not," Dean acknowledged, brow furrowed as if the admission was painful for him to make. Frankly, Sam thought it probably was. His brother had never been very in touch with his feelings and he certainly didn't apologize well. "But that's our bed and you're my – my – _mine_ and we're not going to figure anything out if we're not even in the same damn room as each other."

"And if I don't want to share a bed with you yet?" Harry pressed, the slight upward curve of his lips taking most of the sting out of the question.

Dean snorted and hooked a thumb in the direction of the other bed. "Then you can bunk with Sammy and you girls will have a real slumber party."

Harry studied him for a minute before nodding slowly and scooting to the side of the bed closest to the wall. Dean seemed frozen in the doorway, not sure whether he was about to face another prank or getting everything he'd wanted. Harry smiled, pulled back the covers and patted the empty space next to him invitingly.

"I thought you wanted to sleep?"

Sam laughed as Dean practically tripped over his own feet in his hurry to get into the bed. Turns out he didn't need to have that awkward conversation with Harry after all. All he had to do was wait for Dean to get pissed off enough.

* * *

Dean had thought that sleeping on the couch had been torture. But lying in such a small bed with Harry right next to him was unbearable. He wasn't sure where they stood. Was he allowed to touch him? Would Harry leave if he tried to explain himself or apologize again? Could Harry hear how hard his heart was beating as he struggled to control himself?

The man in question wasn't helping matters either. If Dean didn't know any better he'd say that Harry was going out of his way to make him uncomfortable.

Dean had forgotten what it felt like to have Harry's slim figure curled up next to him. Even though their combined body heat had made the comforter completely unnecessary and therefore been discarded onto the floor, Harry had still stripped off his shirt. The thin cotton sheet did little to hide the sleeping wizard's toned form. The bed sheet had fallen just low enough to show the top of his ribs. Dean licked his lips, staring at the exposed nipples and remembering how he used to suck and lick them into attention.

Harry's mouth was open slightly in what Dean would normally have taken as an invitation. Dean could already feel himself getting hard in his briefs at the thought of prying those lips apart with his tongue or a more _pressing_ part of his anatomy. As if hearing his thoughts Harry made a slight moan that sent shivers through Dean's body before rolling over to face the wall.

The sheet caught between Harry's arm and side, dragging it off of Dean completely. The slight chill of the night coated the hunter's skin before exploding in goose bumps. Dean's eyes greedily checked over the newly revealed flesh of Harry's muscular back. He reached out a shaking hand and let his fingers hover over the back of the wizard's neck before tracing the path of his spine. Never once touching but always just close enough to feel the heat wafting off of Harry. He didn't stop until his knuckles were above the spot where the two plump mounds of Harry's ass rose up under the paper-thin material of his boxers. The temptation to snag the elastic waste and tug was just too powerful.

So Dean went ahead and did it.

"You always did have a problem with impulse control," Harry muttered. Even facing the other direction Dean could tell he was smirking.

"I fucking knew it!" he hissed, trying to act indignant despite being caught red handed. "You were awake the whole time weren't you? Stripping off your shirt like that when we both know you'd wear a freaking parka to bed if you could."

Harry turned his head to look over his shoulder before promptly bursting out laughing at the streaks of blush on Dean's face. He quickly smothered his face into his shoulder to try from being any louder and waking Sam up. It was only after several minutes of non-stop chuckles and gasps for air that the wizard finally managed to regain control of himself.

"You should have seen your face," Harry said, bare chest still vibrating in amusement. "I honestly thought I was going to lose it after that moan."

Dean was not so amused with the situation. "Happy I could entertain you, asshole."

Harry pinched Dean's side in retaliation. "Like you weren't enjoying yourself. I could feel you digging into my back, you know."

"This wasn't exactly how I planned on 'enjoying myself' tonight."

"Well excuse me for not just rolling over for you, Dean," Harry replied stretching out on his back and rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

"Did I _say_ I was expecting sex?"

The wizard narrowed his eyes at the sulking man next to him. "Are you saying you weren't?"

Dean shrugged. "I'd have settled for a handy."

Harry shoved his laughing boyfriend off the bed. Though Dean figured he got the joke since a layer of magical cushioning kept him from bruising anything on the hard floor. Eventually Harry's head popped into existence above him. He expected Harry to look mad but was pleasantly surprised to see the bright smile spread out across the wizard's lips. Dean couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey," Harry greeted softly.

"Hey back," Dean answered, eyes tracking the way Harry bit at his bottom lip.

Deciding to take a shot Dean leaned up onto his shoulders. He moved in slowly in order to give Harry time to back away if he wanted. There was a brief flash of hesitation in Harry's eyes but as soon as their lips met it melted away. At the first touch of tongue Dean was off the floor and pressing Harry into the mattress.

Or at least he was until some invisible force lifted Dean into the air. He was surprised by how quickly he got a hold of himself. Harry was always finding new ways of introducing the supernatural into their sex lives. Dean wasn't stupid he knows how Harry worries about how Dean is adjusting to a relationship with a wizard. It's not an unfounded concern but Dean was getting better at not freaking out every time Harry did something magical. He'd found that just relaxing and going along with it during bedroom time only added to how hot the sex got.

Harry smirked up at him once he realized that Dean had settled into the invisible magic restraints above him. "You tore my boxers."

Dean grinned fondly at the reminder. "Guilty."

"I think you should give me yours," Harry declared with an overly serious expression.

"Sounds fair."

Harry kept his grin even as he sprawled out on the mattress below him. Dean's muscled tensed as Harry's fingers slid up his body, replicating the same patterns Dean had made earlier… or been tempted to. Harry actually touched skin, which, in Dean's opinion, was clearly the better option. Even if it did tease Dean more than the almost-touching had.

His body finally relaxed into the touch once Harry started caressing his throat and jaw. Fingers teased the opening of Dean's lips until he greedily swallowed them down. Dean moaned around the single digit before a second and then a third were added. Harry's other hand wasn't just sitting around idly either. It sneaked down to the torn boxers and removed them slowly, teasingly, until the wizard's cock flopped up and onto his bare stomach.

Dean felt his mouth lubricating Harry's fingers even further at the sight.

At some point Dean's eyes had closed but they shot open as the fingers disappeared from his mouth with a slurping sound and a trail of mess down over his lips. He looked below him to find that Harry's head was no longer in front of him on the pillow. Instead the wizard was almost out of his magically restrained sight as he scooted further down the mattress.

He shivered at the night air as his underwear slid down to his knees. Dean awkwardly flailed, unsure of how to help with the process while suspended in the air. Harry chuckled from somewhere around his bellybutton before tugging them over his feet and onto the floor by the bed. A chaste kiss was pressed to each of Dean's abdominal muscles to provide some measure of reassurance. Warm palms pressed against his muscular thighs, parting them until Dean looks as if he's humping the air between them.

The hunter is all set to complain about the indecency of it all when a warm mouth sucks him in all at once. Dean gasps as lips circle the head of his dick, pulling it away from its resting place on his stomach and easing the thick length further and further into slick heat until it hits the back of Harry's throat. Their moans echo one another at the sensation.

Dean cries out in surprise and pleasure as he's rotated through the air. Harry doesn't have to move a muscle, just keeps licking and sucking as Big Dean revolves in his mouth. Finally Dean comes to a stop at the one place that gives him the best vantage point to see Harry's sculpted ass. Even better he's just in time to see those three slick fingers opening their owner up. His dick twitched in anticipation, the heat around his cock all the more prominent. That the fingers' pace matches that of Harry's lips sliding up and down on his shaft only adds to the experience.

In his mind, Harry's face is a thing of beauty. He remembers what the younger man looks like with fingers up his ass. The way his eyes are always shut tight as he flexes his ass to help fuck himself on whosever fingers are filling him. Dean doesn't have to imagine the small grunts of pleasure as said fingers curl to hit his prostate because he can hear Harry making them. He can _feel_ the vibrations from the low moans around his dick.

It's only when Dean's balls start to tighten – the threat of climax looming – when he's unceremoniously dropped onto the bed. He knows Harry's close. He's been watching the precum leak from the wizard's swollen head for a while now. It's only seeing the frantic movements of his lover that remind Dean that he wasn't the only one suffering without sex since they'd had their fight.

Dean lets himself get manhandled up against the wall as Harry climbs into his lap. Dean is happy to help things along by lifting him up by the shoulder and scooting that naked ass even closer to his dick. Their lips meet, teeth biting and banging in their desperation for release. It's so good to finally, finally, _finally_ have their mouths meet that Dean keens into the kiss. Tongues slide into mouths, mapping out the ridges of their gums and the points of teeth as if to remind each other that nothing has changed since they last got the chance to explore.

Harry's hand leave his face just long enough to slide down his sides and grab his hips hard. With the leverage he'd needed finally achieved, Harry lines up and impales himself onto Dean's cock in one sharp movement. Dean groans before immediately kissing at Harry's face where he can see that no amount of stretching can prepare you for a hard entrance like that. Especially not when it's been so long and Dean is so wide.

It doesn't seem to deter Harry any. If anything the pain from the tightness just spurs him on. Dean knows he won't last long with the rate that Harry is using him so he decides to even things out. His fist finds Harry's cock and he starts to tease it. It's ridiculously vanilla compared to Harry's fierce fucking speed but it does the trick. Dean is overly gentle about it. He's sure to only brush his fingers along the red thickness, spreading that impressive collection of precum over the head and then down to the balls with his other hand.

Harry must know what he's doing and eagerly meets the challenge. He goes after Dean's greatest sexual weakness: his nipples. The damn things are so sensitive and Harry's mouth is a master manipulator. Whatever leverage Dean had gained over his partner is lost as soon as Harry's tongue and teeth start their work first on the left and then on the right.

It's too late. Dean's lost. But it's the best kind of losing.

He latches his teeth onto Harry's neck and sucks at the flesh there through his orgasm. It helps to muffle his cries of pleasure. Harry has no such decency. He moans – loudly – with every spurt of hot cum that splashes up between them. Dean doesn't stop stroking him through the process until Harry's pushing at his shoulder because he's too sensitive for any more attention.

Dean gives him one last, long stroke before bringing his thumb up to his mouth and licking at the remnants of Harry's climax. Harry's beautiful green eyes bulge at the sight before he, too, leans forward and sucks his own cum off of Dean's hand.

"That was amazing," Dean whispers into Harry's mouth.

Harry nods. His body is still shaking with the tremors of pleasure coursing through him.

"That was a nightmare!" Sam calls from the other side of the room. His voice is muffled from where he's smashed it around his head in a fruitless attempt to keep the sounds of their lovemaking away.

Dean and Harry both freeze. They'd been so lost in each other that they'd forgotten about their roommate. Dean feels the blush cross his face but still can't help but tease his brother. It's an instinct that he's not yet found a way of pushing down.

"Guess you should have given us that minute alone after all, huh?"

Sam's defense pillow turns offensive as it smacks Dean in the face.

Dean tosses it aside with a smirk. "Just for that we're going for round two."

"Oh my God," Harry groans into Dean's shoulder, mortified.

"That's the spirit!" Dean chirps happily.

Sam lets out a little screech of terror before burrowing under his bedsheets.

* * *

John couldn't sleep and he wished that Bobby's booming snores were the only reason. Though that was definitely a factor since the Bobby Singer version of snoring sounded more like a ship's foghorns trumpeting through a low-visibility night. When one added on the pounding headache going on behind his eyes and the stress of introducing the supernatural into Adam's life… well it wasn't exactly a surprise to find John slipping out of his bedroom in an effort to tire himself out.

However it _was_ a surprise to John that his eldest son was no longer taking up residence on the lumpy couch in the shared living room. After the blow up that had followed the revelation about Adam, John had expected Harry to continue to torture Dean for some time. Once again John was forced to revise his estimation of the wizard. The boy was softer than he'd thought to settle things with Dean so quickly.

A soft warmth spread through him at the thought that Dean had someone in his life willing to forgive almost anything simply because they cared for him. John wasn't sure when but at some point he'd given up hope of that kind of happy ending for his eldest son. When Sammy had left them for college he'd purposefully hurt him so that he wouldn't return; so that his boy could go out and find himself that kind of love and never have to feel the pain of losing them.

He'd been painfully wrong on both counts. Just like he'd been proven wrong about Adam never encountering the dangers of the supernatural.

Now John even worried about something tragic happening to Harry. There was so much about the raven-haired man that John couldn't stand. He was every bit as stubborn as John ever was which is probably why they ran up against one another so often. That Harry was also dating Dean was another; it was the God given right of all parents to not like the people stealing the innocence of their children… not that Dean had much innocence left to steal by the time the two had met.

Clearly Harry's magic was an issue. It went against every instinct in John's body to trust the wizard with his children… but he had. It had been Harry who protected Sam and given him friendship when even his own blood had abandoned him. Harry had been the first one to reach that tender part of Dean that had been crushed under the weight of responsibility and tragedy. Hell, Harry had even helped John to shield Adam from the dangerous life of a hunter.

It was then, as John was gazing down at the empty couch, that he truly accepted that Harry Potter wasn't a threat to his family. He'd had the thought before, of course, but never really bought it as reality. Sometime between stabbing John in that dank hospital basement and erasing Adam's memory Harry had become someone that John cared for.

_Family_, John thought wryly. _The little shit is family._

And just as suddenly as the words crossed through his mind, that pulsating headache began to burn. The back of his eyeballs ached so badly that he couldn't even manage to scream his pain. His limbs quivered and John dropped onto the couch feeling absolutely boneless. It took nearly a minute for him to pass out from the pain.

But it wasn't into darkness that John's mind fell.

It was into his memories…

_Sirius was ahead of him on the sidewalk. Usually John was the power walker of the pair but today he had good reasons for dragging his feet. They'd left Sam and Dean in the motel room to finish sleeping off the effects of Sirius' memory potion. John felt his stomach churn with the guilt of slipping his own sons something meant to harm them. No matter what good was supposed to come from it._

"_Are you sure about this?" John asked yet again._

"_Yes," Sirius sighed. "I was sure when I sold my house. I was sure when I bought the new place all the way in freezing-my-balls-off Michigan. I was sure when we moved Kate and Adam into the house across the street. I was sure when we drugged your kids. I will be sure when we get to the house and finish the spell. And I will continue to be sure for the rest of our lives." He stopped in his tracks and turned around to glare at his hunter friend. "A lifespan that will end for you the next time you ask me that ridiculous question."_

_John scowled. "It's not ridiculous. You know what's ridiculous? Your plan."_

_The wizard rolled his eyes before turning back around and continuing down the picturesque suburb street. "My plan is what's going to keep my godson – your son, I'll remind you – safe from those asshole demons. Add to that that it will also save my ass and I can't really see what's wrong with it."_

"_Can't see what's wrong with it?" John repeated, outraged. "You want to erase our memories. You'll essentially be invisible and trapped outside of reality potentially for the rest of your life. Oh, yeah, I'll also hate your guts and live with being the guy who killed you."_

"_If I had known beforehand you were going to be such a whiner I'd have brought Bobby along instead." Sirius shifted the small duffel bag to his other hand. If it also gave him the opportunity to throw up his middle finger at John then so be it._

"_Bobby really would have killed you," John snapped, letting his anger get the better of him and picking up his pace. "And I'm not whining! I'm trying to say goodbye to you, asshole."_

_That brought Sirius up short. Dark eyes squinted at John, assessing him in one long look. Eventually the skinny man's shoulders slumped in acceptance. Sirius nodded briefly before dragging John into a hug. John struggled half-heartedly before letting Sirius wrap himself around him like an octopus._

"_This isn't your fault, John," Sirius muttered into the other man's leather clad shoulder. "This is a sacrifice I'm willing to make. Adam is my godson, my family, and for once in my life I am going to protect the ones I love."_

_John pulled back. "You know you aren't responsible for what happened with those Potter people, Sirius."_

_Sirius shook his head. "Just like you're not responsible for what happened to Mary but you won't ever believe it either. So leave me to my guilt, John."_

_They walked the rest of the way in silence._

_As soon as they reached the small Victorian home, Sirius conjured two shovels. He used the metal tip to point out the back corner of the lot. John nodded and took one of the shovels with a sigh of regret._

"_One stone in each of the foundations, right?" John asked if only to fill the weighted silence that had settled over them._

_Sirius nodded sharply. "I'll take the Southern and Eastern points. Meet me in the house when you're done and we'll… we'll finish this."_

"_I could always refuse to drink the potion," John threatened weakly, his legs feeling like lead on the soft grass. In his mind it was a miracle the weight wasn't sinking him into the ground already._

"_You could," Sirius agreed amiably before snapping his fingers and shooting a bolt of bright yellow light across the yard. "But then I'd just force it down your throat."_

"_You wouldn't dare."_

"_I would when it's this important."_

_John let the defeat finally settle in his gut. The future was set. Sirius would disappear from their lives forever. Adam would be protected and John would be left to handle Sam and Dean's fates on his own. It was all for the best._

_He glanced across the street where Kate and Adam were sleeping in their bright, shiny new home. They were the priority and Sirius would always be right there to watch over them. Sure the wizard would be invisible thanks to that Fidelius spell but there all the same._

_And there was always the hope that one day the memory spell would come undone and their broken family would be reunited once again…_

John gasped as he returned to the land of the conscious. His brain hurt with the mixture of fake and real memories just restored to him. On one hand John could still feel the lingering hatred he held towards the Sirius Black that he believed had betrayed him to the Yellow-Eyed Demon. On the other hand John knew now just how close he'd been to the Sirius Black who had given up everything to protect his youngest child.

Above all his heart hurt knowing where Sirius had been all of this time.

It was time for that reunion.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So a year later and there's finally an update… and I have no excuses beyond working on my original novel and getting caught up in a new fandom (Teen Wolf – it's so much better than it sounds. It's like Supernatural Junior with all the _feels_).

My plan was to finish this up as my NaNoWriMo project and that we'd be seeing a years worth of updates all in one month. Clearly that didn't happen the way that I'd planned. The outline for this fic was atrociously out of order so I had no choice but to take a sledgehammer to it. Thankfully it's all back in an understandable order now and I'm estimating 8 more chapters after this one and an epilogue. Each chapter being about 5k in length. Just because NaNoWriMo has passed doesn't mean that I won't keep updating. It won't be as fast as I'd planned but it certainly won't take me another _year_ to update!

Still, the site's 'Story Alert' option will be your friend with this fic.

The most up to date information on my fics (including progress reports, snippets and chapter previews) can be found on my blog: .com.

**Please don't forget to leave a REVIEW**!


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